Song from a Shadow
by waiting4morning
Summary: **FINISHED!** It is 1997... Christine is entering her last year of high school without parents, without friends, and without hope... until she meets Erik.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**  
_"Sing again, with your dear voice revealing  
A tone  
Of some world far from ours,  
Where music and moonlight and feeling  
Are one."_  
-Percy Bysshe Shelley

  
I first met Erik on a dimly lit, crowded school bus and although I didn't know it then, it was the second most life-changing experience I had. It was the beginning of my senior year at high school and although I'd had my driver's license for over a year, I did not have a car and so was reduced to riding the daily bus that picked me up at the corner of my street.   
  
I'd never ridden the bus before, even as a child my beloved father had willingly taken me to school on his way to work. How I missed those days where he'd let me out only after a hug and his usual blessing: "May angels surround you and protect you." But those days were gone... Dad was dead from the accident and I had been sent to live with relatives in a different city, away from my friends, my school... and my memories. My great-aunt and uncle were nice enough but knew nothing about raising a teenager, having no children of their own. Also, they were getting along in their years and were prone to hours of inactivity, mainly sleeping.   
  
The night before, I had quickly figured out how much time I had to get to the bus stop without being late. I awoke at 5:30 a.m. to take a quick shower and dry my long, curly brown hair, pick out an appropriate first day of school outfit, and get my backpack together, just in time to stuff a pop tart down my throat so I could run to the corner where the old lumbering vehicle came to a screeching halt in front of me.   
  
I entered the gaping maw of the door with trepidation as the bus driver tiredly handed me the obligatory registration forms for my legal guardians to fill out. I almost ran back off the bus when I looked down the aisle and saw virtually no empty seats. I might have moved to the farthest back seats to see if any were available, but that was out of the question. Because as I peeked back there, the leering eyes and the lascivious laughter quickly convinced me to change my mind. No, I would stay up front and maybe someone nice would let me triple up with him or her.   
  
As I walked down, though, I didn't see smiles of welcome or hear a friendly "want to sit here?" Most of the students were sleeping, talking, or staring lifelessly out the windows. I made it to almost the middle of the bus when the catcalls started.   
  
"Hey baby," shouted a young man farther back, sporting a shaved head and a lip ring, "You can sit by me!" I couldn't help but blush and that made the group of teenage guys laugh and call louder. I glanced helplessly back at the bus driver, but he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to me. He had that empty look of someone who's done one thing so many times that it's dull, and I knew he would be of no help to me.   
  
My eyes searched frantically and lighted upon, miraculously, a seat with only one person! I edged my way over, almost tripping over a book bag, and hesitantly tapped the huddled figure. Someone in the back said something as I did this, I wasn't sure but it sounded like: "Man, look! She's sitting by the freak!"   
  
"Can I sit here? Please?" I whispered, my voice on the edge of panic. The figure moved slightly and in the dim light I could only guess that he was looking at me, I couldn't see his face. The shadow with a black wide-brim floppy hat on nodded almost imperceptibly.   
  
I sank down gratefully, placing my backpack on my lap. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the stiff cold seat, praying that I might make it through the day at my new school. It was an old habit, praying, I used to believe in God and angels... but that was a long time ago... before the accident... before Dad died... now I wasn't sure what I believed.   
  
When the bus finally stopped, I got out quickly and retrieved my schedule and map of the school, not wanting to get lost. A whisper of a breeze passed by me, and I glanced up unconsciously.   
  
My eyes widened, for standing not six feet away from me, gazing at the brick building with hesitation, was undoubtedly the dark occupant of my seat on the bus. The first thing I noticed was that he was tall, I guessed about 6'3". He was wearing black dress pants with a black dress jacket over which he wore a long black trenchcoat. But what caught my eye most was that on the right side of his face, he wore a black mask, which itself was half-obscured by a black fedora that I had observed earlier.   
  
He must have felt my eyes on the back of his head because he turned abruptly and stared directly into my eyes. I stiffened and had to force myself not to gasp as his piercing gaze made a shivering jolt go down my spine. His right eye, under the mask was an icy blue, but the left eye was an electric green.   
  
I blinked and forced a smile on my face which seemed to surprise him because his mismatched eyes widened slightly and he turned abruptly to walk into the school. His long, graceful steps rapidly took him to a side entrance into the school which he lowered his head and ducked inside.   
  
I released the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and, checking my homeroom number again, went into the school. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**  
_"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."_  
-Margaret Wolfe Hungarford

  
The school stood, it's brick rugged and old, as a bittersweet monument to all students that had ever walked inside its halls. Here was the place where they remembered their first kiss, their first time failing or passing a course, and where they remembered the day that they knew what they wanted to do with their lives. Beside it was a newer, larger building with the Greek masks of comedy and tragedy etched in stone above what appeared to be the main entrance.   
  
The school building itself was an odd shape. It was roughly square with rounded corners and a large courtyard in the middle, which had several trees whose branches overshot the roof. Classrooms were on either side of the wide hallways with lockers in-between and water fountains scattered around them. I easily identified the various age groups in the school, they acted the same as in my old school.   
  
New freshmen stood in clumps of their own or wandered about with fear in their eyes and uncertainty in their step, trying desperately to find someone they knew to hang on to and find their homerooms with.   
  
Sophomores had the mixed look of smug superiority at being older than freshmen but anxiety of upperclassmen that might play pranks on them. They wandered in packs also, and once in awhile a girl squealed excitedly and hug a friend she hadn't talked to probably since last night on the phone.   
  
The juniors, being next to oldest in the school, tried to look bored and cool. The jocks swaggered down the hallway, confident that every girl drooled over him because he was on the football team and had a new letter jacket that boasted his on-the-field achievements.   
  
Then there were the seniors who all had the blissful, faraway look that told anyone what they were thinking: "It's my last year!"   
  
Into this din I walked and tried to avoid being trampled to death by panicking freshmen and late teachers. My first class and homeroom was choir, for which I was eternally grateful. Singing was my very favorite thing in the world, and though I hate to brag, I was good at it too. Dad always said I had the voice of an angel...   
  
According to my map, I had to go through Symphony Hall, which was really an elaborate name for the combination orchestra/band room, to a door on the far left side which would lead me to the choir room called Concert Hall.   
  
I entered the double doors to find myself in a large room with a balcony around the upper half of it with hundreds of instrument lockers for the band and orchestra students. Chairs already set up in the formation of an orchestra waited patiently for occupants. An old-fashioned upright piano stood near the front of the room, white keys betraying years of use and play.   
  
The back wall was almost a whole mirror. It stopped about five feet from the ceiling but guessing from the bar on the wall in front of the mirror and the tiled floor, I inferred that it must be a dance room too. The thin girl in the mirror gazed back at me sadly and pushed a lock of curly dark brown hair out of her face. I forced a mask of joy on and almost laughed when I thought of the masked guy from the bus. I gently touched my reflection in the mirror. "We all wear masks... some more visible than others..."   
  
Spying the door on the opposite side of the room, I started for it but turned when I heard the double doors that I had entered through open. My eyes widened as I sucked in my breath. It was the masked guy from the bus! He saw me, hesitated, then hurried past with his head ducked away from me.   
  
"Good morning," I said politely as he brushed past. He had reached the door but stopped when I said this and turned his head slightly as if not believing his ears.   
  
"Good morning," he finally whispered in a voice that seemed to echo slightly around me but at the same time was surprisingly rich and melodious. I continued towards the door like I had been doing before he had arrived. As I got closer, however, his eyes widened in fear and he backed up a step.   
  
I bit my lip but stopped, feeling pity for him. "Thanks for letting me sit by you on the bus this morning. My name is Christine." I stuck out my hand and immediately regretted it because he just stared at it like I was going to slap him. For a tense moment I wondered what to do when abruptly his frightened demeanor was gone and he straightened up, bowed formally, and took off his hat.   
  
Stupefied for a moment, I just stood there gaping at this drastic change in character. First he had been a fearful, scared teenage guy and in his place stood a confident, powerful, man.   
  
"You're welcome. My name… is Erik," he replied. He had black hair but unlike most I had seen this color looked real and not dyed. It was neatly combed but hung to his ears and an unruly lock fell down over his mask. Now that I was closer I saw that the mask was made of a single piece of black velvet. It covered up the right side of his face, even his nose, and then tapered down to let half of his mouth and chin be revealed.   
  
"So... is choir your homeroom?" I asked trying to look as if nothing had happened. His mismatched eyes glittered with suspicion as he nodded and opened the door for me. We entered a short dark hallway with two offices on the right side before the choir room entrance.   
  
Erik again opened the door for me and I nodded my thanks. We entered a well-lit, noisy room, with a terraced floor and a chalkboard at the front at which a middle-aged woman with short, stylish blond hair in a pants suit was writing her name: Mrs. Celeste Lucas.   
  
The floor was terraced, almost like large steps and had blue chairs on them occupied by students who were already chatting and making noise. I tugged nervously on the straps of my backpack and looked for a seat. Behind me, Erik was a silent specter once more but, oddly enough, I almost sensed his presence.   
  
As I climbed the large steps to a vacant spot over to the left, the room was suddenly silent. I looked back and saw virtually everyone, but the choir director, staring at the strange sight that had appeared among them, Erik. He was trying hard to ignore it, that much was clear, with his head averted and hunched over shoulders, but the other students openly stared and whispered. 


	3. Chapter 3

**

Chapter 3

**  
_"Joy and courage make a handsome face."_  
-French proverb   
I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I would regret and went to Erik, gently grabbed his arm and pulled him to some empty seats in the back. His arm was so tense it felt like steel when I touched it. But even though I could see that he didn't like being stared at I thought it was strange that Erik possessed a quiet dignity and strength that I had never encountered in my peers, but in adults who had gone through life and knew the worst things it might throw.   
  
When we sat, he kept his coat on and discreetly pulled up the collar, further hiding his face. I said nothing but two girls near us continued glancing back and staring at him, then they looked at me and giggle. I stared back calmly and they eventually rolled their eyes and turned around. Obnoxious jerks, I thought, sitting my book bag on the floor.   
  
At that moment the teacher turned around to address the class. "Welcome seniors to your last year of school." There was some cheering from one side of the room and she smiled. "I recognize most of your faces but some I don't." Her gaze briefly fell on Erik and I. "For that reason I'll go over all the rules, etc. for this class." Mrs. Lucas paced the front of the room as she recited the formal rules, which applied for all the classes at the school. "I'd appreciate it if the young men with hats and coats on would remove them now. No hats inside the school building, sorry." A few groans of protest made themselves known and Erik quietly took his hat off. His black hair slid down, and he ran a hand through it nervously. He then took off his trenchcoat, revealing so thin a frame that I wondered that he didn't break as he sat down.   
  
"I'll get medical forms and such for you guys tomorrow." Mrs. Lucas held up her hands to the complaints helplessly. "Sorry guys. School policy; you all know the drill. Next, and most important to me, is the choir. You," she waved a hand to indicate all the students gathered. "Will be the Senior Choir. Our most important performance of the year is the musical which will be _West Side Story._ Practices begin next month. We will audition you and the rest of the underclassmen choirs for cast and chorus. Performances will be in the new school theater next door."   
  
Then she stopped suddenly with a frustrated expression. "Oh! I almost forgot. Roll call! Let's see who skipped the first day of school... let's see… uh... Charlotte Adams?"   
  
"Here," called an attractive girl with shoulder length red hair wearing name-brand clothes right up to her earrings. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and continued the conversation she had been having with two girls, dressed similarly, in the seats in front of her. "And, I was like, I wouldn't have been caught dead in an outfit like that!" The girls giggled loudly.   
  
"... Jason Adkins?"   
  
"Here."   
  
"... Erik Davidson?" she looked, spotted Erik who had silently raised his hand and other than a slight widening of her eyes, nothing suggested that she was surprised at his mask.   
  
"... Christine Daye?" she looked around the room searching for a face.   
  
"I'm over here," I replied waving, finally getting Mrs. Lucas to notice me.   
  
Later when the bell rang, me, Erik, and the rest of the students made our way down the terraced floor to go to our next class.   
  
"Mr. Davidson?" called Mrs. Lucas to Erik after the room had emptied, who stiffened and turned around. "May I see you for a moment?"   
  
Erik glanced at me and went back into the room. Mrs. Lucas indicated that I should leave but instead I went to stand next to the door outside the hallway where they couldn't see me.   
  
"Mr. Davidson..."   
  
"Please don't call me that, ma'am. It is not my name."   
  
I imagined Mrs. Lucas standing there looking confused as I felt. "Not your name...? Davidson?... What is your name then?"   
  
"Erik," he replied simply. Mrs. Lucas must have looked even more confused because he continued through clenched teeth. "Davidson is the name of the foster family I live with. It is not my birth name and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't call me it."   
  
"Okay... Erik... Anyway, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything... but as a teacher I have to stand by the rules and the rules say no gang related symbols or dress code permitted," said Mrs. Lucas, firmly but not unkindly.   
  
"I'm afraid that I don't understand ma'am," replied Erik softly, nervously.   
  
"Your mask Erik. Take it off."   
  
"What?" Erik sounded panicked.   
  
"Please Erik, don't argue with me... I don't want to send you to the principal's office, but I will if I have to."   
  
"But, ma'am, you don't know what you're asking..."   
  
"Yes I do," she replied wearily. "Just take it off. You seem like a nice young man… why won't you?"   
  
"Why?" Erik's voice was suddenly devoid of emotion, cold and unfeeling, it sent a shiver down my spine. "You want to know why." I heard him inhale sharply and then: silence. 


	4. Chapter 4

**

Chapter 4

**  


_"Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind; And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind."_  
-William Shakespeare, _A Midsummer Night's Dream_

  
I waited a few tense heartbeats and suddenly heard Mrs. Lucas exhale shakily.   
  
"Well," she released as if she had just witnessed something disturbing. "I see your dilemma Erik... I'll tell you what I'll do; I'm going to write an explanation note to the principal and he can write you another note to give to your other teachers so you won't have to... er... explain..." Hurriedly, I made my way to my next class through the empty hallways.   
  
All eyes were upon me as I opened the door to the Chemistry room. A short man with thinning gray hair and watery brown eyes frowned at my late entrance. I blushed and stood helplessly in front of him, not knowing where my seat was.   
  
After a moment he spoke, his voice low and accusing. "You are late... Miss Daye," he said accusingly, looking at his grade book.   
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ballinger. I'm new to this school... I guess I got lost..." I replied softly, hoping he wouldn't notice the lie that I choked up.   
  
He seemed to soften. "All right. Just try to be on time from now on. You sit in the middle row, the end seat next to the empty one." To my surprise, Erik, about ten minutes later, walked through the door and went towards the front of the room to give a note to the exasperated teacher. As Mr. Ballinger read it, students whispered and snickered at Erik who was standing rigidly, exposed to the whole class.   
  
I clenched my fists tightly, I wanted to stand up on the desk and dance around, anything to stop them from tearing Erik apart with their eyes. Finally Mr. Ballinger, giving Erik an odd look, allowed him to sit in the empty seat next to mine.   
  
When the bell rang, Erik got up quickly and left. I ended up following him through the hallway and up the stairs, his tall frame was easy to spot in the empty space that formed around him as he moved through the crowds of students. I caught up with him just as he was hesitating outside the door to the math room. I took a deep breath and approached him.   
  
"Hello again, Erik. We seem to have a few classes together." He seemed surprised that I addressed him directly and nodded quietly. Allowing me to enter first, I again was conscious of his presence behind me. It was odd but not unpleasant, it felt like I was being watched over... by a guardian angel.   
  
As in the chemistry class, the other teens whispered and stared at Erik as he let the math teacher, Mrs. May, read his note.   
  
"All right, no time for messing around. We're starting right off with this question," she announced in a loud, firm voice once Erik and everyone else had been seated. "Who can tell me what the sum of 1 to 100, inclusive is?" I frowned. _Wonderful... first day of school and I'm already confused..._ What was she talking about? I vaguely remembered something about that from my junior year but I was drawing a complete blank. Apparently so was everyone else... except Erik. Beside me, he had silently raised his hand no more than two seconds after she had asked the question.   
  
She raised her eyebrows. "Yes, Erik? What's wrong?" she asked, clearly not expecting an answer so fast. None of us were, but I soon learned that it was unwise to underestimate Erik.   
  
"The answer is 5050," he replied in a soft but certain voice.   
  
Mrs. May's jaw dropped. "How'd you guess that?"   
  
Erik's eyes narrowed. "I never guess, ma'am," he replied icily.   
  
"Did you already know that problem?" she still looked amazed, as did everyone else.   
  
"No, ma'am. I did it in my head," he replied.   
  
Astonished, all I could do was stare at him like the rest of the class and the teacher were doing. _Who is this guy?_


	5. Chapter 5

**

Chapter 5

**  


_"Beauty is not in the face; beauty is a light in the heart."_  
-Kahlil Gibran

  
When I arrived in my fourth period class, English, I was a bit disappointed to see that Erik was not there. I really didn't know what to think of him... Erik was... _unique_. There was something special about him... I didn't know what it was but I did know that he needed a friend and I was determined to be one... even if I ended up being the only friend he had.   
  
Someone gently touched my arm and I jumped, startled out of my thoughts. Beside me stood one of the most attractive guys I have ever seen. Blond hair cut short and spiky gave him a roguish look, his deep brown eyes were soft and warm, and a small dimple appeared next to pearly white teeth and a perfect smile. "Did you ever lose that bracelet in a swimming pool?" he asked in a deep, masculine voice.   
  
Dumbfounded, I sat in at my desk gaping like a fish until my pitiful brain finally came up with a response that didn't sound too half-witted. "Huh?" _Brilliant, Christine, just brilliant._   
  
"Did you ever lose that bracelet in a swimming pool?" he repeated, still smiling. I tore my eyes away for a moment to see what he was talking about. _Oh yeah!_ That _bracelet!_ The piece of jewelry that this Greek god was referring to was a silver ID bracelet that my father had given me on my sixth birthday. It had a small silver plate with my name inscribed on it next to a small engraved rose. From the day I received it, there wasn't a day I took it off... except for one day when Dad took me to the beach. Ironically, it was at the hotel pool that it had slipped off my small wrist when I was walking around the pool to greet my dad as he got out from diving into the deep-end. He walked away for a moment to towel off and that's when I discovered the bracelet was gone. Then I hadn't been a very good swimmer and was devastated when I saw my bracelet twinkling cruelly at me from the bottom of the pool.   
  
I remembered that I started to cry until a very wet boy about my age with a dimple in his cheek popped up in front of me and handed me the bracelet. I was so happy that I gave the boy a kiss on his cheek... and for the rest of our trip there, we had been inseparable companions.   
  
Remembering all this I blushed a little but smiled. "It _is_ you, isn't it?" he continued and, if it was possible, smiled bigger. "Wow. Christine... you certainly have... changed..."   
  
Feeling more like an idiot every second, I finally managed to stutter out: "I'm sorry, but I don't remember your name..."   
  
"Rod. Rod Chandler." Just then the teacher walked in, Rod smiled and, melting me with his eyes, walked back to his seat. "I'll see you later Christine."   
  
"Congratulations. You have just done in five minutes what every girl in this school has tried to do every year."   
  
Still a bit dazed, I turned to see a friendly looking girl about my age with short blondish-brown hair and oval shaped glasses over a freckled nose smile at me from her desk in front of mine.   
  
"What do you mean? What have I done?" I asked, the memory of Rod's gaze still warming my cheeks.   
  
She grinned and pushed her glasses up farther on her nose. "Snag Rod Chandler, of course. He's only the most eligible guy in school. One, he's totally hot. Two," She tapped her fingers as she counted off. "He's the captain of the football team. Three, he has his own Porsche. Four, he's from one of the richest families in town. And five, his dad's the mayor."   
  
I grinned at the girl's bored look. "You don't seem very impressed."   
  
"Who? Me?" She put on a mock-horrified expression. "Never! I couldn't ever be romantically interested in Rod. I practically grew up with him. His mom and my mom were best friends, so we got to play together a lot as kids. We went to pre-school, kindergarten, and elementary school together." She shrugged. "He's more like a brother to me. In fact," She leaned over close to me as if to divulge an important secret. "I could tell you diaper stories about him!"   
  
I laughed and she joined in. "By the way, my name is Marisa." The teacher looked our way for a moment, annoyed. "I'm Christine," I hurriedly whispered back.   
  
I flashed an apologetic smile at the teacher and started to listen. Later, when the teacher wasn't looking, we swapped schedules and compared them. Unfortunately, we only had one other class together which was French IV.   
  
When the class let out, Rod accidentally bumped into me on our way out the door. "Sorry, Christine," he said but the way he looked at me with those gorgeous brown eyes convinced me that he wasn't at all sorry that we got to touch.   
  
All the way to the cafeteria I had a silly grin slathered all over my face. It was going to be an interesting year. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**  
_"The incomparable beauty of life is not discovered with the eyes or the mind, but with the soul."_  
-George Webster Douglas

  
By the time I reached the cafeteria and bought lunch, my giddiness at meeting the handsome Rod Chandler had dissipated to some extent. And it left completely when I realized that I had nowhere to sit.   
  
Just then I spotted Erik, sitting alone in a dark corner at an empty table. I started to move towards it when I heard my name.   
  
"Christine! Over here!" waved a pretty girl with bright red hair. I glanced at Erik, who didn't seem to notice me and walked towards the friendly girl. Gesturing with a big smile, she and the five other girls at the table moved around a bit to make room for me. She looked familiar and then I remembered she had been in choir, Charlotte something-or-other was her name.   
  
"Hi," I replied shyly as I sat down. Charlotte smiled widely again and pointed out each girl at the table. I mentally noted that they all seemed to shop at the same place, for at least one item they wore said GAP, Abercrombie & Fitch or some other nonsense name.   
  
"This is Nicole." Nicole was a slim young woman with very short dyed blond hair and dark roots that were just beginning to show. She smiled briefly then resumed eating her salad.   
  
"That's Brandi." Brandi, whose pearly white teeth stood out against her creamy brown skin, smiled a little bit longer and went back to her magazine.   
  
"That's Chelsea, Ashley, and Jessie. This is Christine Daye everyone," beamed Charlotte. Maybe it was just me but her smile looked a little forced.   
  
"So... tell us about yourself, Christine," began Charlotte, flipping a piece of her brilliant red hair over her shoulder.   
  
"Well... I lived in New York before moving here... and that was about the middle of summer... but that's boring so I won't go into all that." I ended _that_ train of conversation quickly, it was still too painful to talk about the accident. "I love to sing and hope to have a serious career in singing someday."   
  
Charlotte's eyes lit up as if sensing a challenge. "Really? Are you planning to be in the musical this year?"   
  
"Char has sung all the leading parts in the school musicals since she was a freshman," piped up Brandi.   
  
"Oh," I replied, not at all intimidated as I took a sip of my milk. "I am planning to try out. For Maria if I can get it."   
  
Brandi's eyes widened and they all started to whisper frantically. Charlotte merely laughed as if I had just told a funny joke. Her green eyes, however, narrowed when she looked at me again. "Good luck," she whispered, "You're going to need it." I wasn't sure how to take this, was she threatening me? Over a little part in the school musical?   
  
I decided to ignore it and figured that she's just intensely competitive. No matter, I enjoyed a good challenge now and then. An uncomfortable silence followed until one of the GAP girls (I couldn't remember her name) asked me if it was true that I was going out with Rod Chandler.   
  
"What? Me?" I stuttered, my cheeks warming as I involuntarily remembered Rod's smile. _Boy, news sure travels fast here._ "I barely know the guy!"   
  
"Well..." said Ashley (or was it Jessie?). "Rumor has it that you two were pretty close last period. How'd you do it? Char's been trying to snatch him since eighth grade!"   
  
"Jessie!" gasped Charlotte, her face turning as red as her hair.   
  
I interrupted, not caring for whatever little soap opera they had going on. "Listen, I met Rod once a long time ago. He just remembered our chance meeting and wanted to make sure it was me. He didn't ask me out and that will be the end of it." I wish I sounded more convinced and, apparently by the evil eye she was giving me, so did Charlotte.   
  
"Did Churchy-girl preach to you yet?" asked another as she put on some mascara.   
  
"Churchy-girl...?"   
  
"Marisa Watson. She's our resident church-freak, bookworm, and wired-weirdo," continued the girl in a tone of voice like it was as normal as if telling me the weather.   
  
"Wired-weirdo...?"   
  
"She plays around on computers all the time. The Internet and stuff like that." She made a face as if tasting something disgusting. "She actually likes to do that kind of geeky stuff. Plus, every time religion or some such trash comes up in history or English class, she'll speak up and lecture everyone on the life of Jesus or Saint Paul or whatever suits her mood. It happened all the time last year and the year before!"   
  
Frowning, I came to the defense of the potential friend I had seen in Marisa. "You don't even know her, she's really nice. I talked to her last period and she didn't seem at all 'preachy'."   
  
All the GAP girls rolled their eyes. After another uncomfortable silence, what's-her-face slyly asked me if Frankenstein had sucked my blood. I gagged and nearly choked on a piece of chicken sandwich. "What are you talking about?" I glared.   
  
"You know..." the girl giggled and her eyes slid over to where Erik was sitting. My blood ran cold as the full meaning of her insult hit home.   
  
"No, I certainly do _not_ know what you are talking about! Erik is very nice--"   
  
She snorted derisively, cutting my defense short. "Oh! IT has a name then! He's a _freak!_ He's wearing a mask! He must be really ugly--"   
  
"Yeah! He reminds me of that half-dead, demon-zombie guy from that horror movie we saw last weekend--"   
  
"Shut up!" My face was red and my hands were trembling. _What's gotten into me?_ All I thought about was the look on Erik's face when he had to stand up in front of the class to let the teacher read his note. He had looked afraid, cornered, almost like he was in a cage... _And these arrogant, preppy_... I was so mad I couldn't think of any good insults. In a blind rage I stumbled away from their accusing, gleaming and gossipy eyes and when my head cleared I found myself asking Erik if I could sit with him.   
  
"Me?" he asked suspiciously as if he thought it was a joke. I nodded and he seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment. "Please... go ahead. Sit." I noticed he wasn't eating, only filling out medical forms and such in a stark, scribbled hand that oddly enough, didn't seem characteristic of his elegant ways.   
  
I couldn't help but watch and be mesmerized by the fluid grace by which his left hand moved over the paper while his other hand tapped out a silent melody on the table. _Who are you Erik, angel or demon? Why are you so interesting?_ As if sensing my gaze on him, he glanced up and looked directly into my eyes. Like before, a shiver went down my spine before he shyly looked away.   
  
Yep, it was definitely going to be an interesting year. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**  
_"Sometimes the heart sees what is invisible to the eye."_  
-H. Jackson Brown Jr.

  
I didn't have any more classes with Erik the rest of the day. Music Theory, which I had after lunch, had only a few people I barely remembered from choir but they pretty much ignored me. In French I greeted Marisa with a genuine smile, conveniently the teacher let us choose our desks and we sat next to each other. We exchanged phone numbers and she promised to call me that night.   
  
In my last class, American Government, Rod sat only a few desks away as the teacher put us in alphabetical order. We didn't have time to talk, though, since the teacher made us go to work immediately.   
  
After school I waited for the bus, feeling a bit foolish as I watched all the other teens my age get into cars. I recalled with a sad smile what Dad usually said when he picked me up after school safe and sound. "Looks like your guardian angel did a decent job today, so how was school?"   
  
_Not now..._ I thought, sighing as a flood of painful memories came back to haunt and torture me with what was and what never would be again... through a few tears I suddenly spied something out of the corner of my eye. I blinked and looked again, nothing. I shook my head ruefully. _I could have sworn I just saw Erik sneaking into the theater next door... but why would he have any reason to do that? Christine, your imagination is way too active._   
  
The bus finally came, my ride home. _Home?_ I thought sadly. _I don't have a home any more..._   
  


* * *

  
"So, how is your life as a 'wired-weirdo'?"   
  
Marisa laughed. "You've heard that one already? They mean to insult me but I think it's funny. I don't care what they say, computers are awesome. Stressful at times but all in all cool. Have you ever been online?"   
  
"Nope," I replied, twisting a strand of hair around my finger. Cradled in my shoulder, the old-fashioned phone poked my skin uncomfortably so I switched sides. "Never really had the chance."   
  
"You should sometime, it's lots of fun. I like to read, as I've already told you, and there are tons of places where you can go and discuss books on every topic. Musicals too. I love Broadway but I couldn't sing to save my life, I have no talent on any musical instruments, and I have a heart condition which prevents me from being very active so there's no chance of me being a dancer either. The Internet gives me a place to go and talk about the stuff I like with people around the world with the same interests."   
  
"Broadway?" My ears perked up. "I love to sing and... well, I've never told anyone this but I hope to be on Broadway someday. It's always been my dream..." We talked a little bit more about what we'd like to do with our lives and college, stuff like that. Then I finally worked up the nerve to ask her about her other nickname.   
  
She was silent for a moment. Not really an embarrassed silence, just a contemplative one. "I have to admit, in the past I have been a bit pushy about my beliefs but I don't do that any more. Even though it hurts to see people reject what I believe in, I know they have the right to." She was quiet for another moment. "What Charlotte's friend said about me 'preaching in class' is not quite true. Last year, we did a huge section on Puritanism in English class to go with _The Scarlet Letter, The Crucible,_ and some other stuff that we read. Naturally, the majority of what we dealt with was religious. When our teacher asked questions in class about what this or that reference to the Bible meant, I was usually the only one that had the answer."   
  
Then we turned to other topics, both of us a little uneasy in such serious waters. I asked about her family. She lived with both her parents and her younger brother, her older brother was at Harvard studying law.   
  
"I hope you never have to know how lucky you are," I whispered hoarsely. "My mom died when I was very young. I hardly even remember her." I chewed my lip a bit, feeling the familiar tightening of my lungs and throat. "My dad... died last February... in a car accident..." I drew in a deep shuddering breath. "I live with my grandma's sister and her husband. They were the nearest living relatives that I had."   
  
"Oh, Christine... I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have asked, I can hear how this hurts you--" she broke off suddenly and I heard tense muffled conversation. Sounding a bit worried she came back on. "Sorry, Christine. I've got to go. My little brother is having an asthma attack. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye!" Click.   
  
Feeling depressed and close to tears, I decided to take a walk and left a note for my great aunt before leaving through the front door. I didn't think much as I walked, mostly to steel myself against the flood of tears that surely follow if thought too much about the... accident.   
  
Fate conspired against me, however, because upon turning around the corner of a street the things in my memories and nightmares became reality once more. There had been a wreck up ahead in the road. There was an ambulance and it looked like firefighters were using the Jaws of Life to pry open the crushed door of a small gray car. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**  
_"True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen."_  
-La Rochefoucauld

  
"No!" I whispered, clapping my hands over my ears trying to shut out the tidal wave of horror that accompanied the grim scene in front of eyes.   
  
_Broken shards of glass... everywhere... on my dress, on my hands, on my face..._   
  
"Stop..." I moaned unable to tear my eyes away from the car wreck.   
  
_Blood... on my hands... can't seem to wipe it off... Dad..._   
  
Choking back a sob, I turned and ran blindly not knowing where I was going but just needing to get away. I knew not how long I ran, nor did I care. But when I finally stopped, my lungs gasping for air, I found myself staring at the school's theater from a distance.   
  
I almost laughed in spite of my tears. "Always go back to the music." Dad had constantly said. Well, I figured, why not? I'd been curious what the inside was like, and there was no time like the present.   
  
There were no cars in the parking lot and for a moment I worried that I wouldn't be able to get in. But when I looked in the small space between the school and the theater, I saw a door that the janitor must have forgotten to close the whole way. I slipped in and paused to let my eyes adjust to the dark.   
  
After tripping over several boxes, I finally discovered another door and I found myself in the main auditorium. I gasped in delight; the interior was fashioned as an outside theater from ancient Greece with small statues in various places around the auditorium. I also saw the Greek masks of comedy and tragedy appearing throughout the huge structure. The ceiling was meant to be a nighttime sky, it's coloring was dark blue with tiny individual lights blinking on and off slowly to simulate stars. It was beautiful, and for the first time in many weeks I felt at peace; like I had finally come home.   
  
Softly, not wanting to disturb the magic of this place, I walked up the steps that led to the stage and looked out into the empty seats. If I closed my eyes I could just imagine all the seats filled up with proud parents and eager theater lovers for the school musical.   
  
The school musical... _Hmm_. Feeling a bit foolish, I sang a few scales softly to the empty theater. More confident, I started to sing "One Hand, One Heart," one of my favorite songs from _West Side Story_. I closed my eyes and I almost heard the male part of the duet, singing along with me perfectly.   
  
Suddenly, my eyes flew open and I stopped singing. _That wasn't my imagination! Someone was singing with me!_ I scanned the stage and the auditorium, searching for whoever had sung. I saw no one... but now I felt strange... there _was_ someone nearby... I could feel his presence...   
  
"Who-who's there?" I ventured nervously. Nothing replied but the sound of my own breathing. "Is it the janitor? If so, I'm sorry... I didn't break in or anything, there was an open door..." Still no response. I gulped and hurriedly climbed down the stairs, glancing over my shoulder and around me, unable to shake the feeling that I was being watched.   
  
I made it to the door in the dark corridor and opened it. A breeze sighed down the dark hallway, caressing my cheek like a hand and I thought I heard someone whisper "Christine." Once again I spoke to the silent theater. "Who's there?" My only answer came from a sharp wind that almost pushed the door shut. The hair on the back of my neck tingled and I ran out of there as fast as I could. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**  
_"Canst thou think and bear  
To let thy music drop here unaware  
In folds of golden fulness at my door?"  
_ -Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnet IV"

  
The next day after school I was walking leisurely down an empty hallway after meeting with a teacher who was a little confused about my previous school record. Then I stopped in surprise as I was passing Symphony Hall.   
  
Someone inside was playing a violin. Without warning, all my childhood memories of my father playing his treasured instrument flooded my mind. For a moment, I forgot where I was and all I could do was whisper: "Dad?" I edged the door open, trembling, and saw Erik standing, his back to the huge mirror, playing a violin with such fluid grace that it almost seemed as if the violin was merely another part of his body.   
  
As if sensing another presence, he stopped playing abruptly and whipped around to face me. Shock registered on the visible side of his face and we could only stare at each other until someone broke the silence with enthusiastic applause.   
  
"That was fantastic!" exclaimed a portly middle-aged man with a mustache, standing near the door to Concert Hall. He walked towards us, a big smile on his friendly face, and I saw Erik stiffen out of the corner of my eye.   
  
"Sorry," muttered Erik, lowering his head instantly so the masked side of his face was hidden. Carefully, he lay the violin down in an open violin case on the piano. His long, thin fingers brushed the wood with reverence as he turned and headed towards the exit. "I-I couldn't resist playing it..."   
  
"Wait!" exclaimed the man as Erik reached the exit. He stopped, his whole body rigid. "Where did you learn to play like that?" asked the man, awe evident in his voice.   
  
Erik didn't move. "Nowhere," he answered softly as if remembering something from long ago. "I taught myself..."   
  
The room was silent for a moment; the clock on the wall clicking to the next minute startled me. "Are you in the school orchestra? I don't remember seeing you today... I'm Mr. Hayes, the orchestra director."   
  
I saw Erik's fist tighten almost imperceptibly against his black coat. "No, sir. I am not."   
  
Mr. Hayes' pleasant face twisted in bewilderment. "You're not? With talent like yours, son, you should be!" He took a step towards the silent figure by the door.   
  
Erik stiffened and turned his head slightly. "I am not your son, sir," was his soft reply. Erik left swiftly, leaving an aching void where music had once been.   
  
The silence was deafening and I soon became aware that I was still trembling from the memory of his music. I was sure that not even my father had played so well. Erik's music seemed an outpour of his very soul, flowing forth with a stunning intensity that left me feeling as if I'd gazed into a bright celestial light...   
  
"Who was that young man?" asked Mr. Hayes softly, startling me.   
  
I stared out the door that he had exited, the wind blowing a few early fall leaves into the room. "Erik," I replied simply. There was nothing else to explain. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**  
_"Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live."_  
-Norman Cousins

  
Two weeks passed... Rod's flirting increased in the classes I had with him but I still was a bit too shy to return his playful advances with anything other than a timid smile. This further alienated me from Charlotte but my friendship with Marisa grew and helped sustain me throughout that first difficult month... but I never forgot that day when I saw Erik playing the violin.   
  
It was almost time for the auditions to _West Side Story_ and Mrs. Lucas told those of us who were hoping for the part of Maria what was required of us on the day we auditioned which was a solo piece of our own choosing.   
  
I was still thinking about possible songs that day after school. As I was walking out the door, I noticed that once again the theater door was open. Curiosity got the better of me and I crept towards it. Feeling foolish, I glanced around outside to see if anyone saw me, and went inside. This time, there were a few dim lights on in the hallway and I went down it instead of going to the auditorium like I had before.   
  
The theater was larger than I thought. Doors on either side of me led to other hallways and a bend at the end of mine convinced me what a labyrinth this place truly was. _Someone might easily get lost in here..._ I thought, rounding another corner and going down a short flight of stairs. The thought occurred to me that _I_ might get lost... but somehow that knowledge didn't deter me from walking on. I felt safe and relaxed here... more at home in this theater than I was at my great-aunt's house.   
  
Suddenly, I tripped over something and the brick wall rushed at me with startling quickness. I raised my hands to brace myself for impact... and in a confusing blur, fell straight forward and landed on my knees.   
  
_What just happened? Where's the wall?_ I thought, pushing my disheveled hair out of my eyes. I stood and gaped at my dark surroundings. Gone was the dim corridor, which I had been walking though. _Where am I?_ It was pitch black but a mirror set into one wall on my right gave off a ghostly bluish luminescence that was strangely comforting. A bit nervous, I ventured forth, using the wall to feel my way around the room. It was small, not much bigger than a walk-in-closet sized but I could tell by feel that the floor was concrete covered by thin carpeting and the mirror made up half of one of the longer sides of the room.   
  
The enormity of what I had discovered felled me and I leaned against the opposite wall for support. _A secret room! I've accidentally found a secret room!_ For a moment I felt like a child again, playing hide-and-go-seek with Dad in the community theater. Reality returned with a bit of fear in a moment when I realized that I did not know how I was going to escape.   
  
"Okay... calm down Christine," I said to myself, running my hands through my thick curls. "Think... how are you going to get out of here?"   
  
I felt my way back to the front of the room (the front being the way I got in) and searched for a doorknob. Nothing. _Well, that was to be expected I guess. It's a secret room so the way out isn't what it usually would be._ For the next half hour I anxiously felt around the "door," on the walls beside it, and the floor. I couldn't reach the ceiling. Finally, I found a loose panel on the right wall that I pressed and the secret door cracked enough for me to push it open and get out. Once out in the hallway again, wonder mixed with relief replaced the panic that had threatened to overtake me and I saw the secret door close by itself.   
  
With a smile on my face, I worked my way out of the theater, deciding not to tell anyone about my discovery. I had always loved playing in the theater where Dad usually performed, sneaking around and into dressing rooms and the orchestra pit, hiding behind backdrops and other props.   
  
As I was exiting through the door, the darkness of the hallway no longer seemed frightening to me. Now it was almost comforting... like the caress of a hand on a face wet with tears. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**  
_"Music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all, but you are the music while the music lasts."_  
-Thomas Eliot

  
I was walking out of school, the exit that's closest to the theater, on a particularly stressful day that same week when suddenly, Charlotte and two of her friends rudely shoved past me, knocking the books and papers that were in my arms to the ground. I sighed and bent down to retrieve my things when I heard my name amidst their inane talk and giggles. I picked up my papers slowly and as quietly as possible to hear what they were talking about.   
  
"That tramp Christine Daye actually thinks that she can get the part of Maria!" Charlotte was saying contemptuously. I gritted my teeth but strained to hear what else they said.   
  
"Don't worry, Char," one of the girls said, fawning admiration in her eyes. "She won't be able to beat you. You're the best!"   
  
"Yeah!" chimed in the other girl with enthusiasm.   
  
Charlotte smiled thinly and flipped her red hair over her shoulder. "Of course she won't beat me. She sings like a frog! I can just hear her audition now..." here she threw her voice up into a screechy, whining sound. " 'CROAK! CROAK!' " The girls dissolved into peals of cruel laughter. I couldn't stand it and turning, ran into the theater, their laughter echoing in my ears.   
  
I became calmer as I walked in the narrow hallways that led to my secret room. After stepping on a certain spot, I pushed the door open and entered, breathing in deep. I set down my backpack and purse to turn on the small battery operated lamp I had brought here the other day. As I turned it on, it's small bright light cast weird shadows on my face in the mirror.   
  
I glanced at myself in the mirror and lifted my chin, trying to look confident. "I'll show her..." I vowed to myself. "I'll show everybody..." My reflection seemed to doubt me so I sang a scale to prove my point. But to my horror, my voice, that instrument which Dad had been more proud of than his own violin, cracked halfway up. Horrified, my hands flew to my mouth but something snapped inside of me and I couldn't hold back the sobs that came fast and hard.   
  
If it had been any other day, I would have just cleared my throat and went on but today I had been loaded down with homework in every class, Charlotte had purposely gone out of her way to make me miserable, and to top it off, Erik was once again the outcast of the whole school. It was weird, that even though I didn't know much about Erik, I felt as though I had known him my whole life. Every time someone insulted him, I saw his mismatched eyes burn with a mixture of anger and deep pain and, somehow, my heart hurt too.   
  
"W-who am I fooling?" I cried, despair filling my heart. "Charlotte's right..." Hands shaking, I found a picture of my dad in my purse and clung to it. As always, he stared up at me, smiling and confident. "I'm s-sorry Dad. I'm not good enough to be what you wanted... what I wanted..." Sobbing quietly, I hugged my knees to my chest and leaned back against the cool surface of the mirror. _Where are you, Dad, when I need you most? Where is the angel that you promised would always be with me...?_   
  
As if in answer to my silent questions, I heard something so quiet and tentative that I stopped crying in order to hear it better. Someone was singing... Automatically, I named the song and the opera it was from. "_Che Gelida Manina_" from Puccini's _La Bohème_, one of the first operas I remembered seeing. I could almost hear my dad's voice, telling me about it on a day long, long ago... _"In this aria, Rudolfo is comforting Mimi, the beautiful young woman he loves..."_   
  
Almost without realizing what I was doing, I walked, trance-like, to the auditorium. As I got closer to it, I heard the voice and the piano that had joined in much clearer and what I heard left me breathless.   
  
I cannot tell exactly what an effect the voice had over me. I felt... almost dizzy... hypnotized by the exquisite beauty that flowed from his mouth to my ears and into my soul awakening a part of me that I thought had died with Dad. The auditorium was dimly lit but the angelic voice was coming from the stage. I vaguely saw a shadow leaning over a piano, and in that moment, strangely enough, I knew who it was: Erik. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**  
_"Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor,  
Most gracious singer of high poems!"_  
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnet IV"

  
It's strange, how at the most emotional moments in your life, the most ridiculous thought will pop into your mind. That happened to me as I listened to the end of the aria. All I could blurt out was: "You were the one singing with me that day!" My presence and my loud voice did not seem to startle Erik. In fact, he acted as though he had been expecting me. How odd…   
  
He exhaled slowly, breaking the spell of perfect music as he stood and nodded, even such a slight movement was infinitely graceful as if it had been choreographed. "I hope I did not scare you."   
  
"No... I-I enjoyed singing with you." I felt a bit braver and stepped closer to the stage where he still stood gazing down at me with those strange eyes of his that almost glowed in the darkness.   
  
" 'My White Knight,' " Erik said suddenly, looking at me with expectation. My mind stumbled from this sudden change of topic and I bit my lip in confusion.   
  
"From _The Music Man_," he continued, going over to the piano and retrieving something. "It is difficult, but very impressive when done correctly." He made a small gesture with his hand and I automatically walked up to the stage where he gave me sheet music without touching my fingers. "It will show off your high range and has a melody line almost entirely independent from the accompaniment."   
  
In a single fluid movement, he walked back to the piano and sat, long fingers poised above the keys as if they had been born to play.   
  
Like the idiot that I was, I looked dumbly at the music and then back at him. "_The Music Man_?" I repeated weakly.   
  
I saw a flash of impatience in his eyes but he sighed and replied gently. "You were a needing a solo piece for the audition, correct?" When I nodded, he continued. "I have taken the liberty of choosing a piece for you so that, with my help, you _will_ get the part of Maria." The conviction in his voice was so strong that for a heart-stopping moment I thought _could_ beat Charlotte.   
  
I shook my head and looked down at my feet. "No I won't..." I whispered sadly, "Charlotte will. She always has the lead..."   
  
Erik stood up and with two long strides was so close to me that I saw a faint white scar on his forehead, just under the brim of his hat. "Not _this_ year!" he hissed. My breath caught in my throat and we stared at one another until Erik seemed to realize how close he had gotten to me. He relaxed a bit and moved back to the piano. "Charlotte is all volume and no tone quality. She substitutes the true melody with sheer noise. You, on the other hand," he nodded at me, "Already have perfect pitch and a pure bell-like clarity that I've never heard anywhere..." I blushed under his intense gaze and he turned away, uncomfortable. "With my help, you'll easily beat Charlotte and win over the audiences during performance." I had a few doubts but I dared not voice them.   
  
"What about you?" I suddenly blurted out. Erik gave me a questioning look.   
  
"Well... aren't you going to audition?" Erik sneered and I hurried on. "You would surely get the part of Tony, your voice..." I shook my head at the memory. "It's like nothing I've ever heard... you sing so effortlessly, I've heard professional tenors before and you are much better than what I've heard..." The visible side of his face softened as he saw my sincerity and he shook his head, sadly.   
  
"Why should I even bother?" he asked bitterly, "I would never get the lead. If I was lucky, I would make the chorus but nothing better."   
  
"Why not?" I asked then immediately regretted it as soon as the words left my mouth. Erik stiffened and turned towards my dismayed face with a sardonic smile and I was once again only too aware of the black mask that separated us and the desire I felt to see what lay beneath it.   
  
"Must you ask?"   
  
"I'm sorry," I whispered. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ He merely nodded and turned back to the piano once more.   
  
"We'll start with a few scales to warm up..." And thus began my private lessons with Erik. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**  
_"That lovely voice; how I should weep for joy if I could hear it now!"_  
-Colette

  
"Beans, beans, the musical fruit. The more you eat, the more you--"   
  
"Shhhh, Kyle! I'm trying to watch this!"   
  
I glanced up from my music theory homework and suppressed a grin. It was roughly a week since my first voice lesson with Erik and already he acknowledged that I was making progress. Erik, I discovered, was a demanding teacher and during lessons he and I were pupil and maestro, nothing more. He was very strict in matters concerning my voice. In no way, shape, or form was I to unnecessarily strain my voice, he had commanded me sternly that first night. I wasn't eager to find out the consequences if I disobeyed. One did not take orders from Erik lightly.   
  
As of now, I was baby-sitting for some neighbors who had a set of twins: Katie and Kyle. Both were seven years old and extremely mischievous. Currently, Katie was watching her favorite show, an animated cartoon featuring skinny, longhaired beauties that fought for "Justice! World peace! And oppressed hair styles everywhere!" It took all my concentration not to gag and laugh.   
  
Kyle, playing the part of the obnoxious older brother (he was only older by two minutes, but...), had grown bored with her show and apparently was trying to annoy Katie as much as possible while waiting for his show (another cartoon: "Power Pooch!") to come on.   
  
"Beans, beans, they're food for the heart. The more you eat, the more you--"   
  
"Stop it!"   
  
This time I frowned at Kyle who jutted out his lower lip and stared sullenly at the flickering TV screen. After a moment, however, his expression lightened. I prepared myself.   
  
"Great green globs of greasy, grimy, gopher--"   
  
"CHRISTY!"   
  
I sighed and rubbed my temples. "Enough Kyle! We would rather not hear-" Someone suddenly knocked at the front door. I gave Kyle one last stern look, while he smiled at me in complete innocence, and answered the door.   
  
"Rod!" I squeaked as his handsome features came into view.   
  
"Hey Christine," he smiled that disarming smile and I felt a blush creep up on my cheeks.   
  
"What are you doing here?" I blurted out then blushed harder at my rudeness. "I mean... Hi..."   
  
He ran a tan hand through his golden hair and I found myself gazing for a moment at the sensuous curve of his lips... "I went to your house and your great-aunt told me that I could find you here."   
  
I tore my gaze from his face and nervously twisted a dark curl around my finger. "Oh... well... uh... what did you want?"   
  
Rod leaned closer and smiled, perfect white teeth nearly blinding me with their brightness. "I was wondering if I could take you for a little spin... so we could talk." He moved aside so I could see his shiny red sports car in the driveway.   
  
"I'm sorry, Rod... but I'm baby-sitting right now," I replied, shaking my head as visions of Rod and I cuddling threatened to overpower my duty to the children I was watching. "I couldn't possibly leave them by themselves."   
  
His smile faded for a moment then returned as he took my hand, stopping the breath in my throat. "Okay... But step out here for just a minute..." One look in those gorgeous brown eyes and all I could do was nod.   
  
Once we were outside, I became extremely nervous but Rod didn't seem to notice. "You know, Christine, I've never forgotten the little girl who gave me a kiss on the cheek..." I only nodded dumbly as he stared at me. "I was hoping that perhaps we could be something more... now that we're almost adults..." He was so close that for a moment I thought that he was going to kiss me. This frightened me for some reason and I backed off my position of leaning against the side of the house.   
  
"I don't mean to be rude... because you're a really great guy and all, and, I really do like having you as a friend..." I was babbling like an idiot but couldn't seem to stop myself. "I really have get back... in the house... the twins are... what I mean is..."   
  
Rod stopped my incessant chatter with the simple motion of putting a finger to my lips. "Movie and dinner. Friday night at seven. I'll pick you up. Wear something nice." With that he removed his finger from my mouth and waved goodbye from his car. I stood on the porch for a moment in a daze, watching the red Porsche zip down the street.   
  
"Rod and Christine sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"   
  
I turned to see Kyle and Katie at the doorway, giggling hysterically. I couldn't help but blush but lifted my chin and with all the dignity that a baby-sitter can muster, I ordered them to clean their rooms. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**  
_"And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,--  
Guess now who holds thee?"-'Death,' I said. But, there,  
The silver answer rang,--'not Death, but Love.' "_  
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnet I"

  
_Where is he?_ I wondered anxiously, scanning the few faces I saw in the theater's seats. It was almost time for my audition and I was backstage in the school's theater by myself. Erik was to be my accompanist but I didn't see him anywhere.   
  
I paced as I waited for Charlotte to go on. I was ready, Erik had told me so and he knew my voice better than I did, but I couldn't help but feel jittery.   
  
Charlotte flounced past me onto the stage when they called her, looking confident and assured of her victory. For the first time I felt a brief glimmer of optimism. vWe'll just see about that, I said to her silently. Charlotte nodded to her accompanist and I braced myself, wishing for earplugs. She took a deep breath and opened her mouth. But instead of music, a horrible noise like the sound a bullfrog makes, came from her throat. The pianist faltered and Charlotte stopped with a horrified expression on her face. She cleared her throat experimentally, looked at Mrs. Lucas in the audience who must have given her the go-ahead, and opened her mouth again.   
  
"CRRROOOAAAKK!"   
  
Clapping a hand over her mouth didn't stop the terrible noise and finally Charlotte ran off stage, whimpering. Backstage, I slumped onto the floor, hearing disturbed murmuring from the auditorium.   
  
I heard a faint rustle, and suddenly, Erik was kneeling at my side. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly seeing my pale face.   
  
"Erik!" I gasped, forgetting to ask where he had been. "Did you hear that horrible noise she made?"   
  
It may have been the dim light but I could have sworn I saw a smile curve the edge of his mouth. "I did. She must have had a frog in her throat... Come on, Mr. Hayes and Mrs. Lucas are waiting." Mr. Hayes, the orchestra director, would be conducting the pit and co-directing the musical with Mrs. Lucas.   
  
"B-But... Charlotte!" was all I could muster at his calm indifference.   
  
He seemed amused by my concern for my rival and stood, offering me his hand to help me up. "Don't worry. I just heard that she'll have another chance to re-audition later."   
  
For a split second, I stared at his hand. This was the first time he had openly been willing to touch me. It was trembling slightly but I took it in a firm grasp and stood. His hand was cool, but not uncomfortably so. When I was completely up, he let go immediately and straightened as we both heard my name announced. Sending up a quick, silent prayer to Whoever might be listening, I strode out onto the stage, hoping that I didn't look as nervous as I felt. Erik trailed me like a shadow and sat down silently at the piano.   
  
Knees trembling, I waited for the nod from Mrs. Lucas and while I did, Erik's voice brushed my ear in a whisper: "You can do this. Make yourself... and me, proud." I inhaled deeply, straightened, waited for my cue, opened my mouth... and when my eyes opened I found myself being supported by Rod... _Where'd he come from...?_   
"Look! She's coming around!"   
  
"Wha-what happened?" I asked fuzzily, trying to lift my head. The world spun so I let my head sink back down again into the crook of a muscular arm. "Did I sing good?" _Where's Erik?_   
  
Someone nearby chuckled. "You were magnificent, Christine! Where have you been hiding that voice? We didn't know you possessed such talent!"   
  
Rod helped me stand and led me the empty piano bench. Someone pressed a cup of water into my hand; I sipped at it gratefully, my throat strangely dry. Rod looked so worried that I smiled shakily to reassure him that I was fine.   
  
"Can someone tell me what happened?" I asked the circle of people around me. "I'm afraid I don't remember much..."   
  
"You sang your piece perfectly, Christine, and had just ended when you fell in a dead faint," Mr. Hayes explained, "You gave us all quite a fright, Christine. Are you feeling better?"   
  
I nodded and looked around again, but didn't see Erik. "Can anyone tell me where Erik is?"   
  
Rod frowned, his eyes darkening slightly. "Who's Erik?"   
  
"My accompanist," I replied, trying to see around the people. "And friend."   
  
Rod frowned again. A distinctly jealous frown. "Some friend," he snorted, "To leave you laying there..."   
  
"No... Actually, I saw the young man, he was wearing black, right? Anyway, he went to Christine but you pushed him out of the way in your frenzy. I didn't see where he got off to, though," said someone from the crowd that I didn't recognize.   
  
_And then all those people came up here... he can't stand crowds... leering, staring, crowds..._ I finished silently, sighing. I stood and pushed my way through the circle, wobbling slightly and trying to keep from blacking out again. I heard Rod and others call after me but I ignored them and continued further into the soothing darkness of backstage.   
  
Feeling close to collapsing again, I stopped to lean against the wall. Hearing a slight whisper, I tried to raise my head but I was so tired… A hand hesitantly touched my arm and I instinctively fell against the thin but strong shoulder.   
  
"Did I make you proud?" I murmured, not really sure now that I was dreaming or awake.   
  
"Mere words will never describe what I feel..." Erik replied softly, his voice caressing my ear like a song. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**  
_"Music is moonlight in the gloomy night of life."_  
-Jean Paul Richter

  
A few days after my audition, the choir was at the local zoo to sing as promotion for the upcoming _West Side Story_. There was still a good half hour before the concert but Mrs. Lucas was looking panicked as she tried to count heads on the small outdoor stage.   
  
"Chad! Where did you get that? Put it back immediately!... No, I don't think it wants to go home with you... okay... there's Jason, Dan, Andrew..." she muttered to herself, checking of names on a piece of paper. I was sitting quietly in the soprano section, which Mrs. Lucas was standing near. She suddenly turned to me. "Christine have you seen Erik? I can't seem to find him... in fact..." she frowned thoughtfully, "I haven't seen him since we passed by the butterfly exhibit... could you go see if he's there, please? We need everyone on the stands in fifteen minutes for warm-ups..." Having rattled that off, she turned back to her list.   
  
I sighed and headed towards the exhibit at a brisk walk. I was a bit worried what I should say to him when... no, _if_ I found him. Erik had the inexplicable ability to disappear into thin air when he wanted to. He had acted a bit tense with me ever since he found out that I had gone out with Rod even though nothing (not even a kiss) had happened between us. He barely spoke to me during school and was even silent during my voice lessons, limiting his responses and commands to one curt sentence or less.   
  
The butterfly exhibit was in a small glass building with lots of trees and other plants inside. I walked in and almost immediately spotted Erik's tall, thin frame near a tree.   
  
"Erik?" I bit my lip, twisting a strand of hair around my finger. A few of the multicolored insects flitted by, landing on a few flowers near me.   
  
He turned slowly and put a long finger to his mouth. Daintily poised on his other hand was a butterfly. It gently opened and closed its fragile wings, completely unaware that the hand it was on played piano and violin with equal grace and expertise. Entranced, I walked towards him and gazed with wonder at the delicate creature. I raised a finger as if to touch it and Erik ever so gently brushed his hand against mine. Wide-eyed, I watched as the butterfly fluttered over to my outstretched finger. He smiled, a real smile, at my childlike awe and his mismatched eyes seemed to glow.   
  
"It's beautiful..." I breathed, totally caught up in the magic of this place.   
  
Erik glanced at me. "Beautiful..." he agreed softly. The little creature fluttered away but I couldn't help but feel as though I had been granted a special gift by having touched a butterfly.   
  
"I've always been fascinated by butterflies..." he said, watching a few fly by. "That such a lovely living thing started out so ugly and unassuming..." And then, almost to himself: "When I was little, I once pretended that I was a caterpillar... all I needed was a little time and then I would be a beautiful butterfly... free to fly away from the rejection, the horrified stares..."   
  
The euphoria I had felt from the pure oxygen used in this room faded. Erik wrapped himself in his ever-present black trenchcoat as if to ward off the consuming loneliness that seemed to pervade his very spirit... "Erik?" I started and when he turned, the visible side of his face was so sorrowful that my words faltered. "H-Have I offended you somehow? You've been so... so quiet with me... that I thought... I've done something wrong..."   
  
Perhaps the euphoria was returning because I thought I saw Erik's eyes glimmer with unshed tears. "No..." he whispered and then for a timid instant our eyes locked and his hand reached up to my hair... and then returned with a butterfly perched on his finger. "We wouldn't want to leave with this little stowaway in your hair, would we?"   
  
I blinked and laughed a little, the spell broken. "No... I forgot to tell you, Mrs. Lucas wants us back right away."   
  


* * *

  
That night after my lesson as I was exiting the theater I heard, whispering ghostlike from the auditorium, the mournful strains of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. I stood in the deserted, dark and dusty hallway, listening as Erik's soul played on until the last sad chord was struck and all was silent. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**  
_"Where there is love, there is pain."_  
-Spanish Proverb

  
Walking into my room after school one day, I almost tripped over something protruding from underneath my bed. Not remembering what I had under there, I pulled it out... and flinched as my father's black violin case came into view. I had put it there after first moving here, not knowing what else to do with it and unconsciously hoping I might forget about… As if by some force that was not my own, my hands flicked the locks open and lifted the lid. Trembling, my fingers brushed the smooth wood of my father's instrument, remembering... remembering...   
  
_A little face peeks through the keyhole of a seemingly enormous door, one blue eye sparkling as she watches the man she calls "Daddy" play his violin. The motions of the bow mesmerize the seven-year-old girl as it flowed effortlessly across the strings, producing beautiful music that most people only heard in dreams. The bow stops and the door opens to reveal Daddy's smiling face.   
  
"What is it, Angel?"   
  
The little girl twirls a piece of her long curly hair around a small finger. "Um... I was gettin' kinda bored... and I wondered if you could play with me... but if you don't have time, it's okay," she says in one breath.   
  
Daddy smiles and kneels down to give her a hug. "I always have time for you, Angel..."_   
  
I shook myself with a start, feeling a single tear slide down my cheek. "I must never forget..." I whispered, caressing the wood one last time before gently closing the lid and pushing the violin case back under the bed.   
  


* * *

  
One week later I was alone in the theater after school, absently humming to myself as I glanced through a booklet of universities specializing in music performance and waited for Erik to appear for my lesson.   
  
"In anticipation of your receiving the role of Maria, I've... _borrowed_ the piano score from Mrs. Lucas so we can work on a song or two from _West Side Story_ today," Erik announced as he appeared on stage, gliding towards the piano with the lithe grace of a cat.   
  
"Where's your hat?" I asked curiously from my vantage point at the opposite end of the piano, noticing immediately the absent piece of his usual attire.   
  
Erik stiffened as he sat down at the bench facing me. "Someone took it as a joke, I think," he replied abruptly. "I don't want to talk about it... Let's begin."   
  
I hurried to go stand beside him... and froze with a mixture of anger and consternation as I saw the small white spit wads clinging to the back of his thick black hair. Belatedly, I realized Erik had begun playing but I had not sung and he turned towards me, frowning with impatience.   
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, seeing my stricken face.   
  
"Erik... there are..." I couldn't say it. Delicately I reached towards his head, noticing that his mismatched eyes watched me with suspicion. "May I? I'm not going to touch your mask... they're in your hair..." He jerked his hand back and combed it through the strands but still failed to get all of them. "Here," I said anxiously, eager to prevent his temper from flaring up. "Let me help..."   
  
Sitting down beside him and not quite opposite his face, I gently ran my hands through his hair, dislodging the little wads of paper that had somehow gotten tucked in-between the strands and had stuck. Erik stiffened at the first touch of my hands so I started humming, hoping to take his mind off the fear of my unmasking him. Slowly, he relaxed a bit and breathed slowly as my hand continued stroking the soft tresses... All the spit wads had disappeared but strangely enough, I didn't stop caressing his black hair, somehow liking the feel of it between my fingers. His eyes had closed to slits and with a start I realized that I had been singing "One Hand, One Heart"... Erik was singing along with me softly, his beautiful voice swirling around me, calling out to me, making my very soul ache with a sensation I dared not identify. A bit frightened of these emotions, I removed my hand quickly and stood, heart pounding.   
  
Erik's eyes opened and he looked at me, those clear pools of green and blue gazing into my own eyes with what seemed like a kind of sadness and longing. But I must have been seeing things.   
  
"Thank you," he said quietly, turning to the piano. The lesson that followed was, oddly enough, relaxed and not tense like I feared it would be. Perhaps I had crossed one of Erik's barriers at last. 


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**  
_"Take away love, and our earth is a tomb."_  
-Robert Browning

  
_The snow is falling ever so gently to the ground, which is already completely white. Laughing with delight, I stretch out my skinny thirteen-year-old arms and twirl like a ballerina, sticking out my tongue to catch a few flakes. Dad watches me with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, suddenly there is a snowball in his hand... it flies towards me and hits the front of my coat. But it doesn't hurt, this is soft snow and Dad never throws very hard. I laugh and run towards him, but just as I reach the safety of his arms, the scene suddenly changes to a much later time...   
  
"Please Dad? Please can we go?"   
  
"I don't know, Angel… The weather is really bad..."   
  
"Oh, please, Dad? I'll never ask for anything else like this I promise…" Again, I run to give him a hug but just as his arms open wide, the scene abruptly changes to soon after…   
  
"Dad? Are we almost there?" Glittering white snow blows at the car, leaving behind only a few snowflakes on the windows that soon melted into oblivion.   
  
"Just a minute, Angel..." Usually warm and resonant, Dad's voice was strained as he leaned forward, trying to see through the continually thickening snow.   
  
"But Dad…!" I whined and suddenly, there was a loud sound... a blaring horn... screeching tires... a scream, mine... broken glass and twisted metal... snowflakes falling, brilliantly white against the redness..._   
  
With a gasp, I sat straight up in bed, drenched with sweat. My legs were tangled in the bed sheets of my great-aunt's house... not Dad's car from the nightmare. Sighing shakily with relief, I laid back down and wondered for a brief moment if the wetness on my face was sweat or tears...   
  


* * *

  
Trembling, I backed away from the bulletin board where the audition results were posted and sat down on the nearest seat in the choir room. Erik was at my side in an instant, looking concerned.   
  
"I-I did it..." I whispered in awe. My heart was beating rapidly and all it was all I could do not to go look at the sheet again to see the magical, mystical words: "Maria is to be played by -- Christine Daye."   
  
Whatever he was going to say was stopped when Charlotte pushed her way out of the small group that surrounded the audition results list. Before I said a word of congratulations to her, she had gotten the part of Anita, she speared me with an icy glare. "You!" she spat. "You stole my part!"   
  
I met her gaze evenly, some of my elation melting. "No I didn't, Charlotte. It was a fair audition."   
  
She couldn't speak for a moment until suddenly stomping her foot childishly and shrieking: "I'm always the lead!" Her hand raised and, for a moment, I thought she was going to hit me but Erik stood. Seeing his chilling gaze fixed on her, Charlotte faltered, her face registering his intimidating presence with something that might have been fear given enough time.   
  
"Go away," he hissed coldly. Charlotte hesitated, looked at me, then Erik and with a flip of her hair, marched out of the room... and almost ran into Rod. Seeing him, she squeaked and tried to speak. Rod glanced at her briefly and then came into the room to stand by the seat where I was sitting. Charlotte muttered something that I could not, and probably did not want to hear.   
  
Seeing me with Erik, Rod's smile wasn't as bright as it usually was. Maybe it was just the light. "Hey Christine... what's going on?"   
  
Erik stiffened behind me but I couldn't help but beam with happiness. "The audition results are back and, guess what? I'm Maria in _West Side Story_!"   
  
Rod shifted and for some reason didn't look as happy as I thought he would be. "That's... great, Christine, it really is... So, will you be at the game Friday night?"   
  
I felt a blush creeping up on my cheeks. "Uh, yeah," I replied, twisting a dark curl around my finger, only too aware of Erik's disapproving glower. Thankfully, the bell rang and I hurried by myself to my locker before going to chemistry. Football season was in full swing by now and I had faithfully attended all home games... sitting by myself in the increasingly chilly stands trying to work up enough enthusiasm to cheer Rod on. While I admired school spirit and was marginally glad that we won the games... truthfully, football held little interest for me. I just wasn't a sporty-type of person.   
  
"Be careful."   
  
I jumped, startled at the slightly squeaky voice breaking into my thoughts. Turning from my open locker I saw, standing right behind me, a guy who might have been the mold for the stereotype known as "the nerd." His hair was a faint mousy brown, greasy looking and badly cut. Pale, thin lips barely covered large front teeth with braces and his pants were definitely not baggy or long enough to be in the current fashion trend.   
  
"What?" I replied with a confused smile.   
  
The guy pushed thick rimmed glasses up further on his rather prominent nose and sniffed. "This is a warning: Be careful."   
  
He started to move away. "Wait!" I exclaimed, he turned, eyes magnified almost comically by the strong prescription of his glasses. "Warning about what? Who are you?"   
  
He coughed and fumbled around in his pockets. "Peter Eisenhower Zmundinski. People call me Pez," he wheezed and finally succeeded in finding what he wanted. An inhaler. "I was just warning you to be careful around Erik. I wouldn't want to see a pretty girl like you get hurt."   
  
I was so stunned that I only stood there, watching his gangly frame disappear into the throng of students. The bell rang and I hurried to chemistry, the strange guy's warning echoing in my ears as I took my seat beside Erik. _I wouldn't want to see a pretty girl like you get hurt..._


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**  
_"You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly."_  
-Sam Keen

  
"Hey, Christine!"   
  
I turned from my contemplation of the assignment on the chalkboard in English class, seeing Marisa enter the room and smiled. She slid into her desk in front of mine and, making a face, tugged at a strand of her hair. "How come it's always my friends with the perfect hair?" she asked, glaring at my dark curls mockingly.   
  
I laughed. "Perfect? Please! I wish!" I sat back in my chair a little. "I can't do anything with it but leave it down or braided." I pushed an errant lock out of my face and scowled at it. "One of these days I'm just going to chop it all off..."   
  
Marisa's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare!" I grinned mischievously and wiggled my eyebrows. "I won't let you!" she declared.   
  
"Oh really?" I gave her my best Charlotte-intimidation-glare and she stared back until both of us dissolved into giggles.   
  
"Oh, I finally saw your guy-friend today... you know... Erik," she stated, chewing her lower lip, once our laugher had died down.   
  
"Really? When? You don't have any classes with him."   
  
Marisa looked uncomfortable, pushed her glasses up further on her nose, and sighed. "He was delivering a message to my teacher during third period... he walked in, handed him the note and walked back out..." She looked away from me a moment, her friendly face saddening. "Then the whole class erupted into laughter as soon as he went out... it was awful, Christine... I've never seen anything so cruel..."   
  
I sat back, pale. I remembered the math teacher asking Erik to deliver the message... he just took it, without saying a word. When he had finally returned, his hands were clenched and his mismatched eyes burned with anger. Then, I hadn't dared ask why... not when he was in a mood like that, but now I knew.   
  
"Do you know a guy named Pez?" I asked, watching her closely.   
  
"Pez? Oh, yeah. Everyone knows Pez," she replied looking confused at this sudden change of topic.   
  
"Does he like to play jokes on people? Or lie a lot?"   
  
"No... he's usually very serious. He's in one of my classes and the teacher always asks him to deliver messages and stuff. I'm pretty sure that he's trustworthy... why?"   
  
I doodled on a piece of paper. "Oh... no particular reason..." I replied as nonchalantly as I could. Marisa gave me an odd look but luckily for me, the teacher started class. I barely listened the whole period as conflicting thoughts wrestled around in my mind. _Was Pez implying that Erik might hurt me? Impossible! Erik would never... he does have a bad temper though, what if...? No! I won't think badly about him, it's because of him that I got the part of Maria. I owe Erik big time. Perhaps I should ask Erik about it... no, that might make him mad... I'll ask Pez! Yes, that's what I'll do and get this whole silly business cleared up._   
  
But I didn't see Pez the rest of that week and then we started practicing for the musical and I forgot completely. But not for long. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**  
_"Love is not blind - It sees more and not less, but because it sees more it is willing to see less."_  
-Will Moss

  
"QUIT THE MUSICAL - OR ELSE." I handed the note to Marisa while stopping at her locker between classes. Around us, students alternately hurried to their classes or walked lazily with friends, talking rapidly with each other, trying to get as much said before the bell signaled that they would be late. "It fell out of my locker right after English class. I'm not taking it seriously but what do you think?" It was signed "TG - Theater Ghost."   
  
"Hmm... red ink, a gruesome touch. Obviously meant to represent blood but not a good substitute. Real blood would be brown after drying... The writer is trying to disguise his or her writing by making it look sloppy..." Marisa then held the note up to the light, squinting, then brought it to her freckled nose and sniffed it. I gave her an odd look, she grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, I guess I've been reading too many Sherlock Holmes mysteries... Smells faintly of... Johnny Boy cologne, not unusual among the guys at our school. The ink... hmm... looks like the kind of gel-ink pens that most of the teachers here use for grading papers. The paper is ordinary notebook... but of the thicker, higher quality kind. Our ghost has a pretty good job perhaps... that explains the cologne." Marisa shrugged, handed the note back to me, and closed her locker door. "Anyway, I wouldn't worry about it too much. It's probably some kind of weird tradition to scare the lead in the musical around here... but I don't know for sure since I'm not in the music department." The bell ran and we went our separate ways. Before entering my next class, I crumpled up the note and threw it away.   
  


* * *

  
"What are you doing?" I asked curiously as Rod steered me away from the main flow of students for a moment after school. He had caught up with me on my way to _West Side Story_ rehearsal and had walked with me down the hallways of the school with his arm wrapped possessively around my waist. He was now tugging off his class ring and putting it on my right hand ring finger. It was too big for my finger and nearly slipped off.   
  
"This is to let everyone know that you are mine and no one else can have you," he said with a smile and moved his face closer to mine. I turned my head quickly and his kiss, intended for my lips, landed on my cheek instead. Even though we had been dating awhile, I still felt for the strangest reason that I didn't want him to kiss me on the lips. We were, perhaps, the only couple at school that didn't spend the three minutes in between classes sucking on each others lips and exploring their partner's rear end with "roamin' hands and rushin' fingers." I had to turn away when seeing people like that in the hallway, it was disgusting.   
  
Rod looked at me a moment and then gently pushed a curl out of my eyes. "Bye, Christine, my lovely goddess." He blew a kiss as he walked out of the school and I sighed once he was out of sight. The longer I was with Rod, it became clear that he was used to a much more intimate relationship than I was comfortable with. Although I liked Rod and it gave me a thrill that a guy as nice-looking as he cared about me, I knew, for some reason, that I wasn't ready for that kind of relationship... Secretly, I had always been determined to stay a virgin until my wedding night, a rare thing these days, but what better wedding gift might I give to my future husband? Unfortunately, I don't think Rod understood that and I didn't know how long I could hold him off.   
  
I sighed again and pushed my conflicting feelings about Rod out of my mind as I headed towards the theater. It was close enough that Mrs. Lucas and Mr. Hayes had almost all rehearsals there.   
  
Without warning, someone rudely shoved me into the wall. Charlotte walked away from me, laughing hysterically. I glared at her back and rubbed my shoulder. "Are you okay?" asked a timid voice. I looked up to see Brandi, the dark-skinned girl that Charlotte sat with at lunch. She shifted her backpack nervously and kept glancing in the direction that Charlotte had gone.   
  
I glared at her, anger seeping into my voice. "I'm just perfect! You can tell Charlotte that I got her message loud and clear." I stopped, seeing Brandi's face get more morose. "Why do you care?" I asked a bit more gently.   
  
She shrugged. "I don't really know... I mean, you've always been nice and, well, I just don't think that Charlotte's right about everything, you know?" I nodded. "A word of advice: try to stay away from her. She's not too happy with you gettin' the part of Maria... or goin' out with Rod."   
  
I rubbed my shoulder again, there would probably be a bruise there tomorrow. "Yeah... I figured that out on my own."   
  


* * *

  
Before walking into the theater, I took Rod's ring off my finger and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans. I told myself firmly it was because I was afraid to lose it but, deep down, I knew that there was another reason.   
  
Walking into the brightly lit auditorium, I saw Mr. Hayes near the stage who looked up from some papers, smiled and beckoned me closer. "Do you think Erik might want to be in the pit? I could really use a talented young man like him."   
  
I shifted uneasily. "I wouldn't think so, Mr. Hayes... he doesn't like being around people that much..."   
  
His confident mustache drooped. "Hmm. Well... he might like to be my music consultant. He wouldn't have to be around anyone but me. Would you ask him for me?"   
  
"Sure..." I sighed. Mr. Hayes nodded with satisfaction and went back to his papers. Behind me, I heard laughter as other students arrived for practice. I looked towards them, saying in an off-hand manner: "By the way, that was a great joke, Mr. Hayes, that you or someone else put in my locker today. I had to admit, I kinda freaked out when I first saw it."   
  
Mr. Hayes looked up with a frown. "I'm afraid I don't know what you are talking about, Christine."   
  
My grin faded a little. "You know, the note from TG... Theater Ghost." He still looked confused. "It's not a tradition to scare the lead in the musical?" I asked weakly.   
  
"No... why?"   
  
"Oh, uh, no reason. I think someone was just playing a joke on me." I waved it aside but in reality I became a little concerned. Who had sent that note? And was it just a joke? 


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**  
_"True love is visible not to the eyes but to the heart, for eyes may be deceived."_  
-Antoine de Saint-Exupery

  
"I feel pretty! Oh so pretty! I feel--" My giddy pirouette around the imaginary dress-maker's room during rehearsal the next week was cut short as someone came running from backstage shouting: "Fire! Fire!" The next few minutes were a blur. Mr. Hayes and other men rushed backstage with fire extinguishers and those of us onstage were herded outside across the street where we stood, huddled together in fear.   
  
Tom Glover, a quiet dark-haired young man who was playing Tony, ran out of the theater a few minutes later and told us with somber eyes that we could go back in. His gaze was especially dark on me but I didn't understand why until he showed us where the fire had been.   
  
I gasped when I stepped to the doorway of the small closet where the musicals' costumes were being kept and saw the charred remains of the costumes for Maria. The oily smell of lighter fluid hung in the air, giving no doubt to all that stood there that this fire had been no accident.   
  
"There's something else too..." said the same boy who had shouted "Fire!" He kicked aside a burnt piece of cloth to reveal the same blood red, messy handwriting that I was all too familiar with. This time the message read: "THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN MY ORDERS ARE DISOBEYED. -TG" With trembling fingers, I reached into my pocket, retrieving the latest note from TG that had been in my locker earlier that day, reading: "YOU DEFY ME? FINE, PREPARE TO FACE THE CONSEQUENCES!" Someone took the note from my hands and gasped out loud.   
  
"Christine, where did you get this?" asked Mrs. Lucas grimly.   
  
I tore my gaze away from the smoldering costume remains to the equally grim sight of her face. "I don't know," I replied with a shrug. "I've been finding them in my locker... I thought it was just a joke..." I continued, my eyes drifting back to the scrawled message on the floor.   
  
"Well, we're not laughing," interjected Mr. Hayes looking stern. I assured them that I had no idea who sent the notes or who had set the fire and they made me promise to tell them if I got another note. Eventually the mess was cleaned up, orders were placed for new costumes, rehearsal was canceled for the night, and I waited alone in the theater once everyone had left. Well, maybe not _completely_ alone...   
  
"Ready, Christine?" Erik asked, appearing at the piano with a swirl of his black coat. "We need to go over 'Tonight.' Your breathing was a bit off..."   
  
Later, after my lesson, Erik was playing lightly on the white keys, his motions smooth and complete as always. I watched him for a minute, thinking about something I had decided to ask but never had the nerve to. Before my courage deserted me, I spoke. "Erik." He stopped playing and looked at me. Beneath his intense gaze I floundered a bit but continued. "Want to fill out an application to Julliard with me?" He just stared at me. _Why can't the visible side of his face be easier to read?_ I moaned inwardly then hurried on while I still had momentum. "I've already gotten some from the guidance office, we'll have to prepare some audition music but I'm sure you will make it, I have no doubts about your abilities... but I was hoping you might help me with mine..."   
  
The silence was tangible and I resisted the urge to twirl my hair in a nervous gesture. Finally he blinked and seemed to deflate against the force of my words. "I suppose I have to look at prospective universities sooner or later..." He looked up at me, a rare grin stretching the corner of his mouth. "What are the requirements?"   
  


* * *

  
"In my opinion, the relationship is not worth continuing if that certain something isn't there," said Marisa, her voice sounding a bit tinny in the ear-piece of the phone. We had gone from the comedic antics of a teacher at school, to what had happened at the latest musical rehearsal (a piece of scenery had almost fallen on me), to relationships and guys.   
  
"What do you mean? What 'certain something'?" I sat up on my bed, trying not to sound too eager. Lately, I had been wondering about my relationship with Rod. I liked him but I didn't know if my feelings were love or the more friendly type.   
  
"Well... like the first time you kiss. There should be like... fireworks, music, just something spectacular, you know? The tingle of electricity that goes from your head to your feet, the incredible, indescribable feeling that you feel when in love. There has to be some sort of chemistry there. Also, above anything else I think that the person you love should be your best friend. Someone who you can tell anything, someone who will want to share life with you through the ups and downs..." She chuckled. "Someone who'll still love you after discovering that you have morning breath."   
  
"Yeah..." I grinned wryly. Rod and I had never kissed... and if that's what it took to find out how I felt about him, maybe it was time that we should... "Speaking of chemistry, some girl in chemistry today was talking about, I think she said, the 'Dance in Disguise'?"   
  
"Oh that!" Marisa sounded excited. "It's a major party-dance thing that we do on the night before Halloween every year or on Halloween, depending on when it falls. It's a huge deal at our school, people go all out for costumes and spend about the same about of money for it as they do prom. We usually have it in the courtyard if the weather cooperates. Oh, and the most important part is that to get in, you have to have a mask on so that you aren't recognizable right away. It's lots of fun, I went as a freshman and sophomore but I didn't get to go last year. I'm forgetting something... something that happens during the dance... what is that?... It'll come to me later I guess."   
  
"Hmm... Halloween falls on a Friday this year... and opening night for _West Side Story_ is Monday, the third of November..."   
  
"It plays Tuesday night too, right?"   
  
"Yeah. Only two nights..." My mind was no longer on the conversation. _Masks! Erik could go, and not feel so out of place!_ I was so lost in those types of thoughts that I didn't bother to think what Rod might do. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**  
_"Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand  
Henceforward in thy shadow."_  
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Sonnet VI"

  
"What?"   
  
I had managed to get Erik to say that he might consider going to the Dance in Disguise but hadn't said anything about us going together. And now it was too late. Rod was telling me how he had found the perfect costume, a copy of a World War I uniform with a gas mask, and how we were going to wow the other students.   
  
"We'll be the most popular and most beautiful couple there--Uh, did you say something?"   
  
I sighed. "No...." _Guess my night is already decided for me...._ I had already discovered my costume. With a bit of money I had saved up, I had gone to a nearby thrift store and bought an old-fashioned but still elegant wedding dress complete with a thick veil that should hide my face appropriately.   
  


* * *

  
"Oh! I'm sorry!" I exclaimed after bumping into someone after school. I looked closer and gasped. "It's you!" Pez sniffed then kneeled to collect the papers and books I had knocked to from his arms. I bent and joined him.   
  
"I've been meaning to talk to you again, but I haven't seen you around..." I began, handing him what I had gathered. "What did you mean... when you warned me about Erik?"   
  
Pez pushed his glasses further up on his nose. "Not here," he answered furtively, "He might hear us. Come on, follow me..." Brimming with curiosity, I followed Pez to the parking lot where students, laughing and gunning their engines, were leaving. He opened the door to a small, rusty, piece of junk. Calling it a car would have been a compliment.   
  
Once settled into the uncomfortable seats that smelled like stale french fries, Pez began his tale. "I know Erik from my freshman year at a different school in Pennsylvania, it was his sophomore year. I had been there my whole life but Erik had just moved. He... well, he stood up for me a lot..." He wheezed and pulled out his inhaler. "You can see why, look up 'nerd' in the dictionary and there's a picture of me there.... Anyway, he stood up for me even when he was getting the brunt of the attacks. One day, I practically saved his life by turning in some thugs who ganged up on him day after day but really getting into it right before Christmas vacation. It was hard to say who was hurt worse, they were all pretty beat up..."   
  
I paled.   
  
"But in turn, he saved my life after a particularly bad day when the friends of those thugs decided to see if there was any muscle to my skinny arms...." Pez turned his arm over and pointed to a long jagged scar running from his wrist to his elbow. "If it wasn't for him I might have bled to death. But that's not what I'm getting too... I've never been real musically inclined but I know talent when I hear it and Erik definitely has talent. Around the time for the school musical, I heard Erik had been rejected for the lead role and any other part... he was pretty mad but it blew over... or so I thought. During the last performance of the musical, the leading man was found backstage... dead." I gasped, hand flying to my mouth.   
  
Pez nodded gravely. "His death was pronounced a suicide. But no note was ever found... I didn't want to believe what my mind told me but Erik has a... well, an almost murderous temper when provoked. I tried to question him but almost found that same temper turned on me... I also found out later that the guy who had been playing the leading man, had also taken Erik's mask off during gym one day in front of the whole class. It's my guess that Erik never forgave him for that and," Pez shrugged, "That the leading part was given to that guy was just another slap in the face."   
  
"You think he's TG, the Theater Ghost," I whispered, throat dry.   
  
He shrugged again. "It's very possible. I know of no one else that is so adapt at acting like a phantom...." He held up his hands, as if to push back some of the terrible things he had just said. "Now, I'm not saying that he'd kill you or anything... but you know, just be careful around him."   
  


* * *

  
Erik slammed his fist against the top of the piano, the thud reverberating ominously throughout the instrument. I jumped, startled, from my standing position beside the piano bench. "No, no, NO! You aren't concentrating, Christine! What's wrong with you today?"   
  
I lowered my eyes, uncomfortable under his harsh gaze. "I'm sorry...." I whispered, twisting a curl around my finger. "I-I don't know what's wrong with me... I'm just distracted, I guess...."   
  
*The leading man was found backstage... dead...*   
  
"By what?" snapped Erik irritably and abruptly grabbed my right wrist... where Rod's ring glittered cruelly on my finger. I had managed to keep it hidden safely away in my pocket until today, the first time I forgot. I flinched without thinking but he saw my reaction and let go, staring down at the ivory keys.   
  
"Don't you know yet that I will never hurt you?" His voice was so soft that for a moment I thought I had imagined it. "That I would rather die than see you in pain?"   
  
*Dead...*   
  
"Y-yes, Erik but..." I was trembling but I couldn't hide what I had learned any longer. "Someone told me that... that at a school you used to go to... that guy..." I couldn't finish my sentence.   
  
Erik didn't look up but his hands clenched themselves into angry fists. "You believe the word of someone you barely know, to me...?" Sorrow tinged with anger flooded his voice. "I gave you your voice, Christine! I taught your soul how to fly with the wings of an angel...! And you betray me by selling yourself for a--a little trinket for your finger..." This time he looked at me with the beginnings of contempt in those penetrating eyes that knew me to the depths of my very being.   
  
I found my voice, cheeks warm from his cruel implication and lifted my chin. "Even if that _were_ true, Erik, I'm almost eighteen, an adult... I'm old enough to make my own choices... it's my life." An annoying little voice inside reminded me as I spoke that I had already made my choice concerning Rod and physical intimacy.   
  
"Then why don't you do what you've been wanting to do since you saw me?" he asked quietly, staring up at me with empty eyes. "Go ahead... rip my mask off! No? Don't you want to see me? Don't you wish to see my hideous face? No... you just don't want to touch me, you're afraid of me... like everyone else... why are you crying? I haven't hurt you! It's you who have hurt me!" He turned sharply back to the piano, clenching his fists tighter. "Leave me alone. If you don't want to see me.... then... I don't want to see you!" His voice broke. "LEAVE!" He shouted that last word with a mixture of bitterness and grief and I hurriedly ran out of the theater, the melodic but anguished music of Mozart following after me and tearing into my heart. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**  
_"Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and now we cannot live within."_  
-James Baldwin

  
"Stand still, Christine," ordered the blue and white harlequin. The serious look on Marisa's face contrasted sharply with her comical makeup and mask and I couldn't suppress a chuckle. It was the night of the Dance in Disguise and Marisa was helping me arrange the thick wedding veil over my face.   
  
She stepped back, examined me with a critical eye, and then smiled widely. "You look gorgeous, Christine. Rod's going to have a seizure." I turned towards the mirror in her room. I had to admit, I didn't look half bad. The wedding dress was long, sweeping the floor as I walked and high necked with long lace edged sleeves that emphasized the slenderness of my arms. It buttoned up in the back, also pulling the fabric back to elegantly hug my hips and waist. My hair, although I had complained of it before, completed the ensemble beautifully as it spilled out over my shoulders and down my back in thick, dark curls that was guaranteed to be a tangled mess before the night was over.   
  
Marisa's mother suddenly stuck her head in and told us that our dates had arrived. As we were walking out to greet the guys, who were grinning like fools, I couldn't help but wonder what it have been like if Erik had been the one to pick me up....   
  
"Is something wrong, Christine? You're very quiet."   
  
As fake as the mask that Marisa wore, I forced my voice to sound cheerful.... "I'm fine, Rod. Let's go...."   
  


* * * 

  
The courtyard was brightly lit under the darkening sky, illuminating the colorful crepe paper and other decorations that had been strung around the large space. As we entered, I gasped at the multitude of costumes and masks everywhere. People really had gone all out to make their costume the most spectacular and already some were laughing as they tried to dance.   
  
"Wow...." I breathed seeing a glittering, scantily clad mermaid walk by whose mask was so elaborate that I didn't recognize her at first. The mermaid emitted a high-pitched giggle and then I knew who it was: Charlotte.   
  
_Masks... everywhere. Erik would have felt right at home...._ I thought and felt a renewed surge of sadness. _What kind of friend am I?_ Rod led me to the dance floor and I mechanically danced with him, hardly hearing the fast upbeat music against the dull roar of my thoughts. Three songs later, I went to sit down for a breather and Rod stayed on the floor where I observed the mermaid coyly working her way closer. For some odd reason, I didn't care much. Then my world was shattered as I spied a figure gliding into the courtyard, as if on air….   
  
"Erik!" I breathed, eyes wide with surprise. He hadn't been at school since the disastrous lesson a few days ago. During that time I found that I missed him and the talks we had as we walked to our morning classes. Erik had always been a constant presence, gently watching, guiding, and protecting. Without him, I felt... incomplete, as if a part of me was missing.   
  
Erik was wearing a formal tuxedo and a black cape that flowed and swirled around him like a shadow. His hat and mask were as they always were but I observed a new confidence in his step as other masked students walked around him, not even giving him a second glance. Somehow, through the mass of masquerading students, his gaze landed on me and though I was wearing the veil, he recognized me. I don't know how I knew but it hardly mattered because I began walking towards him immediately. Like the joining of two magnets, I was irresistibly drawn to him by some force I didn't recognize as well as the hurtful knowledge that I had caused him pain. Everything around me seemed to blur and fade as we met near the dancing floor.   
  
"Erik, I-" My apology was cut short at a loud shout from the DJ's station.   
  
"Hey everyone! You know what time it is!" Cheers went up around the courtyard. Confused, I spotted Marisa who saw Erik then looked at me and mouthed: "Oh no!" I wanted to ask but didn't get the chance as the DJ interrupted again. "Now is the time for the Great Unmasking! Time to take off your mask and reveal your identity!" Around us, everyone lifted their masks away with laughter as they recognized the faces of their friends.   
  
I inhaled sharply and saw Erik stiffen out of the corner of my eye. _I have to get him out of here!_ was my thought but it was too late, the newly unmasked mermaid shoved her way to where we were standing.   
  
"Uh oh! These two have not unmasked themselves!" she declared in a singsong voice, loud enough for even those far away to hear. I shook my head at Charlotte, she sneered and pushed the veil out of my face. I stumbled back from the force of her hand and only regained my balance to see Charlotte reach up to Erik's mask. From then on, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Charlotte snatched the black velvet mask away to reveal the horrible scarring and skull-like deformation of Erik's poor face for all to see. Heaven forgive me, but I gasped in shock. Charlotte screamed and all around us, students shouted and pushed their way closer to have a better view.   
  
Erik, with an expression like a caged animal, saw my wide eyes. Moaning, he abruptly turned and ran, black cape billowing out behind him like the wings of a fallen angel.   
  
"See! See! I told you he was a monster!" shouted Charlotte to a group of girls, some who were still shrieking and others who were already whispering excitedly among themselves. I felt dizzy, the world was spinning and suddenly Rod was there, holding my arm. He had a disgusted look on his face.   
  
"Maybe now you'll stop hanging around that freak," was all he said and I just stared at him. The DJ started up the music again and Rod pulled me back to the floor where I escaped from his grasp, and ran out where I had seen Erik disappear to. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**  
_"I wish they would only take me as I am."_  
-Vincent Van Gogh

  
"Erik?" My voice sounded very small and nervous in the dark, empty hallways of the school. Ahead, I thought I heard the whisper of a silk cape and I ran towards it, holding up the low hem of my dress so I could run freely, hesitating a little when I saw a door labeled "Roof: No Students Allowed" hanging slightly open. I groped my way up the pitch black, spiral staircase, exhaling with relief as I stepped out onto the roof of the school and felt the cool night air on my cheek.   
  
I spied Erik's huddled silhouette, a black shadow against the star-studded sky, just beyond an air conditioning duct and walked towards him silently. I stood awkwardly behind him for a long minute before he spoke without turning.   
  
"I suppose you missed your chance to scream at my face down there, go ahead, do it now." All the power, the charisma that had I knew his voice to be was gone; it was lifeless and dead sounding now. I was silent a moment because I didn't want to reveal the shame I felt. I admit it now... because Erik had been right in that heat of anger when he had accused me of wanting to rip the mask off his face... I had wanted to see his face... and now that I had, I was deeply ashamed at thoughts that I had entertained. I berated myself silently before speaking.   
  
"I will not scream at you, Erik," I said finally, collecting myself. He whipped around to face me, unbelieving. I sucked in some air through my teeth but other than that, my face was perfectly composed at the sight of his ruined face. The skin was stretched tautly over that side and had a sickly grayish hue that comes without exposure to sunlight. His nose... _oh my_... was half gone, as if it hadn't had enough time to grow. It had half of the bridge but the tip and nostrils were missing, leaving only what appeared to be a thin sheath of skin that prevented his face from having a gaping hole where a nose should be. There was also additional scars that seemed to have been made later in life.The most noticeable one was long and jaggedly violent, running from the corner of his mouth, over his eye, and ending at his hairline.   
  
When he saw that I did not run away or cringe from him, he simply turned back around but I sensed that I was now welcome. Cautiously, I approached and stood beside him silently, offering whatever comfort my presence might provide.   
  
"I... I was born with this... face... cursed from birth to live a dismal and lonely existence," he started bitterly after a long moment, not looking at me. "I never knew my real parents, I was abandoned in a dumpster at birth with nothing to my name." A short harsh laugh escaped his lips. "I didn't even have a name!" I was perfectly quiet, aware of how hard it must be for him to dig up painful memories. "For some odd reason, I was 'rescued' and turned in to Social Services. Although at most times in my life I thought that I should have died in that dumpster, along with the other trash..."   
  
I gasped and reached out to touch his arm, but pulled back when he flinched. "Don't say things like that, Erik!" He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and my heart twisted when saw the despair that was so deeply imbedded in his soul from a lifetime of pain. "Y-you'll never know how much you have changed my life for the better..." Our eyes connected and he turned away but not before I saw a single glistening tear run down his sunken cheek.   
  
"When I was six... I was in a home with five other boys, all older, who made it their daily hobby to torment me... one day, they held me down... and locked me in a cage, poking me with sharp sticks, like I was some kind of rabid animal..." His voice slipped and he breathed deeply for several moments, regaining his composure. "Do you know, Christine, that I've never stayed in a foster home for more than three months? No one wanted me for long... When I turned eighteen, a few days before the first day of school, my last foster family kicked me out. They can do that in this state, you know, they no longer have legal responsibility of me once I become an adult... They gave me ten dollars. Luckily, I was allowed to keep the clothes I had managed to buy for myself. That's also why I couldn't be in the orchestra, not enough money for a violin..." His voice slipped into regretful remembrance as I too recalled his amazing talent.   
  
"Where did you go?" I asked, deeply moved by his story but feeling clumsy and awkward. _How could I even hope to help him?_   
  
"I was desperate... and on the first day of school I saw that the school theater was empty, not even a janitor in sight... I moved in. You wouldn't believe how many little secret passages and rooms there are in that building that no one knows about. The architect must have been an eccentric..."   
  
I thought of my "secret" room and smiled. "But I'm _not_ this 'Theater Ghost'..." he continued firmly, clenching his fist tightly. "I'll admit to a few ventriloquist tricks but I've done nothing wrong. I would never hurt you..." His other hand reached up and for a heart-stopping moment I thought that he was going to brush my cheek but he stopped himself and merely ran his hand through his thick black hair, unruly in the faint breeze that whispered around us. "I don't know who it is, but I'm afraid for you, Christine."   
  
I turned away from him for a moment, gazing out at the night sky twinkling with bright white stars. "I owe you an apology, Erik. I had no right to pry into your past and even less of a right to doubt you... especially since you've shown me nothing but the utmost kindness and courtesy..." I felt, rather than heard, him come up behind me and I almost felt the gentle pressure of his hand hovering above my shoulder in an invisible caress.   
  
"I shouldn't have yelled at you... and I certainly didn't mean to imply that you and Rod... I was angry..." he replied, trailing off, his voice husky. "I-I'm not used to having friends, I hardly know how to act most of the time when I'm with you." _You could take me in your arms and never let go._ My cheeks warmed at this unbidden thought and I was glad for the moment that I wasn't facing him. All was quiet for a moment until I heard a slow song drift upwards from the courtyard and surround us.   
  
"I was going to ask you down there, but I didn't have the opportunity..." he began after a brief silence, I turned. Erik was holding out a trembling long fingered hand. "May I have this dance?" I moved towards him and he shyly opened up his arms, which I went into, putting my arms around his neck and feeling my heartbeat quicken as his gentle hands found their place on my waist. Slowly, we danced under the starlight and when Erik pulled me forward, I didn't protest but only accepted his tentative offer and laid my head upon his chest. I heard his heartbeat through the snowy white shirt of his tux and I closed my eyes when the strong arms encircling my waist held me closer.   
  
Everything seemed to fade around me until I was only aware of our hearts beating together in a silent duet. "Christine..." he practically sang my name and I looked up, my heart skipping a beat at the look in his mismatched eyes. I don't know what might have happened but my chin was rising unavoidably towards his when I heard one word that shattered the spell.   
  
"Christine?" Abruptly, Erik's warm presence was gone and I was left clutching my arms, shivering at the sudden cold. Rod came up with a barely discernible frown in the darkness. "I've been looking for you..." He glanced around the roof. "Did I just see you with someone?" I didn't answer. Rod shrugged, took my hand and led me off the roof. As we went down the stairs, Erik's voice murmured in my ear. "_Goodnight, Christine_..." Rod didn't seem to hear it and I smiled. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**  
_"Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies."_  
-John Donne

  
The ride back home was quiet. I was lost in thought, still feeling the imprint of Erik's gentle hands on my waist... until Rod pulled the car over on the on the dark street where most of the houses were already asleep.   
  
"Christine?" Rod's voice stopped my hand on the door handle.   
  
"Yes?" I asked, my voice not quite steady as I saw the look in his eyes.   
  
"Did you have a good time tonight?" His hand stroked my cheek, tucking a few stray curls behind my ear.   
  
I felt heat rush up to my neck. "Y-yes…" I replied, lowering my eyes nervously.   
  
He smiled his most captivating smile. "Good. Because… there's been something I've been wanting to do for awhile now..." He pulled me to him and before I knew what was happening, his lips were on mine.   
  
I would be a liar if I didn't admit that he was a good kisser, I dare say he's had a lot of practice before I came along, but there was something missing… I didn't feel anything myself. It was like kissing a programmed robot, cold and impersonal. I knew in that moment what I had to do. But before I could pull away, I noticed the unwelcome sensation of Rod's fingers unbuttoning my dress. He was already on the third button when I pushed him away angrily.   
  
"What do you think you are doing?" I gasped. Rod looked confused and smiled, reaching for my face again, I pushed him aside with a frown.   
  
"Do I need to spell it out for you? I thought this was what you wanted, Christine, I know it's what I want," he replied, gazing at me with a little more desire than I was comfortable with.   
  
My cheeks burned. "In this little car?! Right in front of my great-aunt's house?!"   
  
"I don't need a bed," he replied huskily. He started to reach for me but again, I shoved his eager hands aside.   
  
"No! It was never my intention to sleep with you, Rod!"   
  
"Who's going to be doing any sleeping?" I nearly slapped him right then and there but controlled myself, knowing that the truth finally needed to be out in the open.   
  
"Rod," I began, taking a deep breath. "I have to tell you something… I--I just don't feel the way about you that I should for this kind of relationship."   
  
He looked confused for a moment but then his eyes cleared and he smiled a knowing, almost leering smile. "Oh! I get it. You're a virgin, aren't you?"   
  
I glared at him. "As a matter of fact I am! What does that have to do with anything?"   
  
He chuckled knowingly and reached for the ignition. "You're just scared. Don't worry, Christine, I'll be really gentle and if you want we can even go find a Motel 6 somewhere to be more comfortable…"   
  
My mouthed dropped open and, if it was possible, I felt more heat rush into my face. "No!" I said firmly as he began to turn the key. "Rod, I knew I should have told you before but I thought you were better than that…" He frowned; I hurried on before I lost my nerve. "I'm committed to abstinence Rod. I'm not going to sleep with you… or anyone else before I get married. And…" I drew in a deep breath and plunged the proverbial sword in. "This is it. I can't go out with you any more."   
  
That little statement finally got him, he backed up, eyes wide.   
  
"What are you talking about?" He replied with a small, forced laugh. "Do you know how many girls at school would love to be in your shoes, Christine?" I just looked at him sadly. "Christine... it's like this..." He began, talking as if I were a small child. "I'm the most popular guy at school. You and I both know it. And you, my desirable goddess, are the most beautiful girl at school, it's a well-known fact among the guys. The most popular guy and the prettiest girl always go out, it's like nature or something. It just happens and that's the way it's supposed to be." He shrugged. "I can respect your decision to remain a virgin, I guess... as weird as it is in this day and age, but... we still have to go out."   
  
"But what about fireworks, music, that certain something, chemistry? What about friendship?"   
  
"Huh?"   
  
I sighed and shook my head. "Rod, you're a nice guy and, hopefully, we'll still _be_ friends but... you can't base a relationship on appearances and popularity. I'm sorry..." I slipped his class ring off my finger and gave it to him, my heart feeling immensely lighter as I did so.   
  
Rod looked at me, saw the truth of what I said in my eyes and stared sullenly out the windshield. "There's someone else, isn't there?" I was quiet. "I know! It's that freak, Erik, isn't it? You're in love with him!" I felt yet another blush creep up on my cheeks. He shook his head. "I should have seen it coming... Why is it that chicks always go for the moody musician-type?" He muttered as I got out.   
  
The little car roared away and I hummed a little to myself as I searched for the keys to the front door in my purse. I had finally located them and had inserted the key in the lock when I heard a step behind me on the street. I glanced behind me quickly but I saw nothing... however, I quickly went inside and re-locked the door, feeling a strange sort of prickly feeling on the back of my neck... as if someone had been standing in the darkness outside, watching my every move. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**  
_"The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves."_  
-Victor Hugo

  
_I'm sitting in the front row of the funeral parlor. Beside me are relatives I've never met, all sniffling and wiping their eyes as the pastor speaks about the deceased who is laying behind him in a closed coffin. I am staring at it, dry-eyed, they said that his face was too disfigured from the accident to show...   
  
Strangely, everyone in the room seems to disappear and I am left alone, still staring at my father's coffin. Suddenly, the lid of the coffin moves! A hand is pushing it off. I stand up, overjoyed; my father didn't die after all!   
  
My father sits up and faces me. I choke back a scream as his battered, bruised, and bloody, face stares at me. The corpse points an accusing finger at me... "It's your fault!" he hisses. "Your fault!"   
  
"No!" I scream but the corpse's voice is louder, more powerful than mine and he drowns me out.   
  
"YOUR FAULT!"_   
  
I awoke with a cry and had to bite back a sob. I had been waking up frequently with dream-memories, but this was the worst so far. Rubbing my arms fiercely, I realized I was drenched with sweat so I got up and changed into a new pair of pajamas. Slipping back under the covers, I lay awake the rest of the night, willing the last vestiges of the nightmare back into a dark corner of my mind. The darkness outside my window was fading into light before I finally fell back asleep.   
  


* * *

  
The next day, Erik and I seemed to resume our teacher-pupil and friends-during-class relationship with no hint of the emotion from the night before. But I did notice a change in him. He walked the hallways at school with more confidence, no longer shying away from stares but staring back at the person with a quiet strength until they looked away. The badly whispered jokes made his eyes burn with anger but I was proud to see that he didn't turn to face the ignorant troublemakers.   
  
The dark circles under my eyes did not escape Erik's scrutiny, as I had hoped. He asked what was wrong but I could only shake my head, tears threatening to fall... and although I saw that he wanted to, he did not question me further.   
  
Rod no longer spoke to me in the hallways or in class but only talked and laughed loudly with his friends whenever I was near. Once in the hallway, I saw Charlotte clinging to his arm like some unhealthy growth emitting high-pitched giggles every ten seconds. Strangely enough, I only felt the briefest twinge of reflexive jealously before remembering that I didn't have any romantic feelings for Rod. But what defined romance anyway? Dates, stolen kisses, sex? I desperately hoped not. There had to be something else, something deeper then the physical desire Rod seemed to require in his romantic relationships.   
  
Thinking about these types of things made me wonder why I had stayed with him as long as I did, after the initial attraction wore off. Then I remembered the nightmare from the night before and I realized that I had clung to Rod because of the happier memories he represented. Those had been the days when my father was still alive and everything wasn't so complicated. Rod sort of seemed like a stable and reliable person from my past and... I missed that. If the truth were known, I still missed it but it was more centered on my father than ever before…   
  


* * *

  
"Earth to Christine, come in Christine. Hello?" Mr. Hayes' sarcastic tone through the microphone of brought me back to where I was currently, dress rehearsal for _West Side Story_. I reddened and hurried out on stage in my white Maria dress, only to find that Tom wasn't already there.   
  
Mr. Hayes called for him over the sound system but received no response and no one seemed to know where he had gone. I timidly suggested that we just skip that part and go on to when Anita confronts Maria and he reluctantly conceded, muttering something under his breath about this being the worst dress rehearsal he'd ever helped direct. Obediently, I walked through the door to the room where Anita had just come in. Remembering my role, I lowered my gaze in mock embarrassment and pulled a threadbare robe tighter around my neck. Anita's/Charlotte's eyes flashed with anger, perfectly in character, but before I knew what was happening, her hand was up and I received a stinging slap to my cheek.   
  
"Stop!" yelled Mrs. Lucas striding in from backstage where she had been watching and semi-directing. "What do you think you are doing?" she asked Charlotte dangerously.   
  
"You told me to get into the role, Mrs. Lucas," she replied, managing somehow to look innocent and sly at the same time. "That's what I might have done in Anita's situation."   
  
Mrs. Lucas sighed and fixed Charlotte with a half-hearted stern gaze. "Next time, clear it with us _before_ you try something like that. It wouldn't be good to have something unexpected happen like that during a performance." She looked down at Mr. Hayes in the pit. "Where do you want to start over?"   
  
"Actually, I need to hear the pit again in 'Gee, Officer Krupke', no voices. Let's start at..." He glanced up at the stage. "Oh, uh, go take a break Christine, Charlotte... just be back in about ten minutes."   
  
I had just gotten off the stage when I heard a shout: "Christine, look out!" Startled, I automatically looked up... and froze. One of the statues directly above my head that lined the little space above the stage was wobbling back and forth. I couldn't move and saw as if in slow motion the statue topple over and fall.... A shadowy blur tackled me and we landed just as the statue hit the place where I had been standing and shattered.   
  
  
===========  
Author's Note: Please note that the very first dream sequence about Christine's father has been modified so you might want to re-read that one part for some upcoming chapters. I'm sorry the chapters are so short; one of these days I'll probably go through it and combine a lot but expect updates a lot more often than I've been giving them. Thank you for staying with me this long! 


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**  
_"Music is the vernacular of the human soul."_  
-Geoffrey Latham

  
I lay there for a moment, my nose pressed against the stale, musty smelling carpe, hearing startled cries come closer. I was also keenly aware of the haggard breath of my rescuer caressing my cheek and the slight weight of his arms thrown protectively around me. Slowly, cautiously, I sat up. Erik grasped my hand and held it tightly between his own. "Are you all right? Please say you are, Christine!" I nodded and gave him a shaky smile that didn't last very long. He helped me stand and I was almost overcome by the desire to sink back into the safety of his arms. Instead I settled for slumping down into a near-by chair.   
  
"This has gone far enough!" exclaimed Mr. Hayes angrily after seeing that I was shaken but unharmed. "Whoever is pulling these stunts is going to face serious punishment!"   
  
"Perhaps we should just cancel the show," suggested a shaky voice from edge of the small crowd that had wandered over to inspect the damage caused by the falling statue. I glanced over, it was Tom Glover. "That seems to be what this Theater Ghost guy wants..." A few voices murmured in agreement.   
  
"No," replied Mr. Hayes firmly. "Everyone, cast and crew, has put too much into this show to see it completely wasted because of some idiot pulling a few stupid stunts obviously aimed at our leading lady." Erik's grip on my hand tightened. "We'll just call the police..."   
  


* * *

  
Stifling a yawn, I waved goodbye to a few people as Erik and I headed out of the theater. The rest of rehearsal had gone smoothly and without further incident. Erik insisted on escorting me home, especially after I told him that I had felt someone watching me after the dance. Before we could leave, however, I had to retrieve my sheet music from Symphony Hall.   
  
"Here it is--" I said turning around after picking up my forgotten folder that was lying on a chair. I frowned in confusion; Erik was nowhere in sight. "Erik? Where'd you go?" In answer, I heard him start to sing, his majestic voice sounding vague and far away.   
  
Entranced, I walked towards where it seemed like his voice was coming from... the mirror. My hand reached up to touch the cool surface, my reflection ghostly in the dim light, and I shook my head. "Erik?" I called again with more uncertainty.   
  
This time his voice was unmistakable. "Go to the mirror..." Without thinking and not bothering to question his strange command, I walked closer, feeling strangely lightheaded as he continued to sing... Abruptly, the mirror was gone and I found myself standing in a pitch-black corridor, wondering what had just happened. "Erik? Where are you? I can't see anything." Startling me, Erik's cool fingers wrapped around mine and I closed my eyes, trusting him to lead me sure-footedly to our destination... wherever that was. He started to sing again and with a little surprise I noted that it was a poem I remembered Dad whispering to me after tucking me into bed at night when I was a little girl. "Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee, All through the night. Guardian Angels God will send thee, All through the night."*****   
  
That warm memory combined with Erik's hypnotic voice and my already tired state, lulled me to sleep but not before I felt a brief hesitation in his steps when strong arms picked me up with the utmost gentleness, letting my head rest against his shoulder.   
  


_"Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee,  
All through the night.  
Guardian Angels God will send thee,  
All through the night."_  
* * *

  
Like most children, I had eagerly read all of C. S. Lewis's books about the magical land of Narnia. Some of my earliest memories centered around me sneaking into my mother's big, old-fashioned wardrobe, pushing past my father's coats, shirts, and other articles of clothing that smelled of him with relish, certain each time I stepped into it that I was soon to be among centaurs, fauns, and a kind lion named Aslan. I was always disappointed when I invariably reached the hard wooden back of the wardrobe but one day, Dad discovered me, sniffling back tears behind a thick winter coat after one such expedition. He said not a word but went away quietly and when he had come back bearing a tray of real English tea and sandwiches, everything was all right.   
  
Strangely enough, that's what I was dreaming of until a slight rustling noise grabbed the edge of my waking conscious...   
  
My eyelids fluttered open and I lay still for a moment, observing my new surroundings with growing confusion. Where was Dad? And the tea? I sat up. I was wrapped in Erik's silk black cape, and realized where I was, my secret room in the theater. I glanced around and relaxed, seeing Erik leaning against the mirror with an amused smile.   
  
I yawned. "How'd we get here?" Still a bit groggy, I half-expected him to say that he had gone through a wardrobe.... In answer, he turned and touched something on the mirror, it seemed to rise up slightly and with a push of his hand, I saw the dark corridor beyond.   
  
"This passage leads right up to the mirror in Symphony Hall. I discovered it last month," he replied setting the mirror back in its original position and sitting down. We sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before I spoke again.   
  
"Why are we here?" I asked, fingering the soft black material that hugged my shoulders.   
  
He pursed his lips. "I'm glad you told me about that creepy feeling that you're being watched." I tried to wave it off as insignificant but he stopped me with a single finger poised directly above my lips. My protest died in my throat. Funny how my skin tingled like that even though he wasn't even touching me… "I'm almost certain that no one else in the school but us knows about this room," he continued, his voice low. "If you feel like you're in danger, come here as quickly as possible and without being seen. If I come looking for you and don't find you, I'll assume you've come here."   
  
"That's a good idea…" I stood, assuming that his purpose for bringing me here was complete. When he didn't stand with me to exit, I asked him what was wrong.   
  
He hesitated a moment. "You're repressing something, Christine. Didn't you think I noticed that you haven't been getting any sleep? And I've seen you cry in moments when you thought no one was looking..." I paled, clutching the cape around my arms. With the grace of a cat, Erik unfolded his limbs and moved closer to me so that he could look directly into my eyes. "What is it, Christine? If you don't let it out, it might destroy you," he whispered worriedly, his voice a silken caress. "Believe me, I know. I've seen it happen too many times to other foster children."   
  
I tried to look away but his fingers reached out and with an oddly graceful gesture pulled my attention back to him without touching my skin. "Christine... what is it that hurts you so much?" Unwillingly I looked into his eyes and when I saw the depth of the emotion in his mismatched gaze, something inside me gave a little...   
  
"I killed my father," I replied in a dead voice.   
  
---------------  
* by Sir Harold Boulton 


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**  
_"For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul."_  
-Judy Garland

  
"I don't remember my mother very much. She died when I was a baby," I started, twisting Erik's cape between my fingers as bittersweet memories resurfaced one by one. "Dad... Dad didn't talk about her a lot but I knew they had loved each other very much. He never remarried and so for most of my life Dad was the only person I had in the world. He was the one who taught me to love music and encouraged my timid dreams of being a singer. He was never pushy, though, letting me develop into my own person with my own interests and ambitions." I sniffed and quickly away wiped a tear that trickled down my cheek with embarrassment. "I remember when I was little... about seven years old I think. I had just finished a recital at school. I messed up really bad, forgetting my words and just standing there with my mouth gaping open... Anyway, when it was over he told me how proud he was that I had had the courage to get up on stage in front of the couple dozen or so parents that had attended. He told me that stage fright had been one of his biggest obstacles too... I remember thinking; 'how could my dad, an adult, who's played before hundreds of people ever be afraid?' " I smiled at the memory but then it faded. There was absolute silence for a moment before I went on.   
  
"It was last February. I was being stupid, really," I continued, staring at the dim glow of the lamp, unwilling to see the condemnation in Erik's mismatched eyes that I knew would be there. "A friend of mine had tickets to see a musical in the city that had been sold out before Dad and I could get our own tickets. The day before the performance, my friend got really sick… food poisoning or something. She offered the tickets to Dad and I… I wanted to go so badly and I begged and pleaded like a five-year-old. Finally," I paused a moment and inhaled a deep breath. "He agreed even though the weather was really bad and the forecast called for yet more snow… We were driving really slowly and all I could think about was if we were going to be late. I asked him if we were almost there and the next thing I knew there was a blaring horn..." My voice broke and I closed my eyes, feeling tears slide from under my eyelids. "I learned later that the truck that... hit us slid on the ice after trying to stop at a red light. The last thing I remember before waking up in the hospital was this horrible image of blood… violently red against the snow. When I woke up, a police officer told me that Dad was..." I buried my face in my hands. "It's my fault! If I hadn't begged him to go to the stupid performance... It's all my fault!" I choked on some tears and then couldn't stop the rest of the sobs that shook my whole body.   
  
Erik let me cry for a moment before tenderly lifted my chin with the barest feather-light touch of two fingers, holding my tear-flooded eyes with his own. "It wasn't your fault, Christine," he clearly, enunciating each word perfectly. I just stared at him incredulously. "You hear me? _It was not your fault!_ Your father was an adult, he made his own choices and as a parent he had the right to refuse you. It was his _choice_ and no fault of your own." I couldn't respond, all the breath seemed to have left my body. "You need to let go sometime, Christine, life is too short to carry around such a burden..." Dimly I felt the gentle pressure of Erik's arms and I fell into them instinctively, letting my tears soak his shoulder.   
  
Gradually, the tears receded to be replaced by an inexplicable peace and I felt strangely reluctant to draw away from the comforting warmth of Erik's arms. I heard his heartbeat, steady as a song and reassuring me that, even though the outside world might be crumbling down, everything, at this moment, was well here.   
  
Almost unwillingly, I pulled back slightly with a shaky, shy smile, leaving a hand on his arm.   
  
"I never did thank you Erik, for what you did today... I just wish there was something I can do for you..."   
  
Erik hesitantly covered my hand with his and glanced at me with a burning intensity that at once frightened and thrilled me. "There's nothing you can do, Christine," he answered sadly.   
  
I searched his eyes and somehow I knew without a doubt what I should do. Tentatively, I reached up and removed his mask. He shrank away from me with a cry, using his arms to hide his poor face. Gently, I removed his hands away from his face, ignoring his automatic recoil. Then I laid the back of my hand against his scarred cheek. Erik inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut.   
  
"Christine... how can you stand to… to actually touch it?" he half-moaned, quivering. His hands clenched and unclenched themselves rapidly in the folds of his cloak that had slipped off my shoulders when we had embraced.   
  
"Erik," I admonished gently. "Don't you understand? This... stuff," I continued, gesturing to my own skin and hair. "won't last, eventually we'll all be ugly. But what really matters is what is in here." I put my hand over his heart, feeling it's steady beat beneath my fingertips. "I know the real you, Erik... In a way… you are handsome to me..." He closed his eyes again with a small sigh. Trembling, he tenderly grasped my hand in his long thin one and brought it hovering in front of his mouth where I felt his ragged breath tickling the small hairs on my hand.   
  
I moved closer. Erik's eyes flew open, sensing my movement He looked frightened and tried to shake his head. "Christine..."   
  
I was, by now, so close that I felt the slight tantalizing pressure of his shallow breath against my mouth. Slowly, not wanting to scare him more, I brought my lips to his.   
  
It was like drowning but at the same time I was soaring above the clouds... Absently, I felt as if the last piece to a puzzle I had been working on unconsciously had just been solved. Everything fit.   
  
I closed my arms around his neck to insure that he wouldn't pull away prematurely and end this mystical moment. He made some muffled, startled sound but at the insistent pressure of my lips against his, he seemed to relax and awkwardly brought his arms around my back, arching my body against his as gentle, tentative fingers buried themselves in the tangled mesh of my hair.   
  
At some unspoken agreement we parted, our duet ending with a barely audible sigh. I leaned against him, his chin resting gently against my forehead, closing my eyes as thin arms wrapped around my waist and held me as if I were a ghost.   
  
For a while, neither of us spoke as if afraid to shatter the fragile intensity of the moment we had just shared.   
  
"What happens now?" he whispered as if afraid that he might wake up and sadly realize that it had all been a dream.   
  
I didn't ever want to leave but all that we had worked on would be practically in vain if I didn't get a good night's rest. I pulled back just to look him in the eye. "I think we'd both better go. The musical is tomorrow and I want to have enough sleep."   
  
At once, Erik stood and shyly helped me to my feet. "You're right, of course. Can…" he hesitated, unsure of himself again. "Can I see you home?"   
  
I smiled and threaded my arm through his. "Why Erik, I thought you might never ask."   
  


* * *

  
With a tired smile, I once again thanked the middle-aged lady for her many generous compliments on my performance. It was late Monday night and the opening night of _West Side Story_ had gone off without a hitch. Even though I had longed to go and immediately get the thick stage makeup washed off, Mrs. Lucas had met us backstage after bows and insisted that we go and "greet our public." I had been assailed by many people giving me such rapturous praises that I couldn't disentangle myself for a while.   
  
I sighed with relief when the woman finally walked away, and glanced around seeing only a few people left in the theater and they were either part of the cast or they were exiting. I was just about to enter the door to that led to the ladies dressing rooms when I thought I saw Tom Glover looking at me. His face was a mask of rage... 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**  
_"Nor hands nor cheeks keep separate, when soul is joined to soul."_  
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Inclusions"

  
"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," muttered Erik, trying to inch further away from the girl on the other side of him who was bouncing up and down on the seat of the van as she talked and giggled with a few people in the seats behind us.   
  
"Trust me," I replied with a smile, tucking my hand into his. Since the last performance of the show was on Tuesday, and many of the athletes in the musical had to be at practice on Wednesday, Mr. Hayes and Mrs. Lucas decided that the cast party should take place after the first performance. The party was taking place at the farm of one of the students, there was going to be a large bonfire, gallons of hot cocoa and plenty of marshmallows and other goodies to eat. I thought it sounded like fun and had convinced Erik to go.   
  
It was completely dark outside once we reached the little clearing near the edge of the woods. The bonfire crackled merrily, giving welcome warmth to the cool autumn night. Within minutes the students were hovering around the fire and food table, laughing and talking while the teacher chaperones stood around looking cold.   
  
Erik brightened when we found a bale of hay to sit on that was out of the way of the main group of students but still close enough to receive warmth from the blazing fire. For a while we just enjoyed each other's company, talking about the musical and how glad everyone was that the first night went so well. Erik commented on how surprised he was that aside from a few minor glitches, the pit orchestra did very well. Every so often a person spotted us and walked over to congratulate me on a stirring performance. I blushed modestly, not sure how to respond tactfully to all the praise I was receiving.   
  
I went up to the table to get some hot chocolate, but when I turned back to our bale of hay, Erik was gone. "Erik?" I called softly, sitting the hot chocolate down. I spied something near a tree behind our bale of hay and picked it up. It was Erik's black hat. I fingered it for a minute, frowning as my eyes strained to see into the darkened woods. I glanced back at the other students, none of them were paying attention to me so I walked beyond the first few trees, hearing the leaves crackle loudly under my feet.   
  
Suddenly, a hand grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth and pulling me back in the shadow of a large tree.   
  
My captor whispered in my ear: "Did I scare you?"   
  
Erik. I wilted against him with relief as he released me.   
  
"Shame on you, Erik," I admonished him in a soft voice, slapping his hand playfully. "What would have happened if I had screamed?" The moon provided just enough illumination that I saw his eyes and the unmasked side of his face.   
  
"People might have come running," he replied, brushing a leaf out of my hair and hesitantly tracing the curve of my jaw with his thumb.   
  
"And what might they have found?" I murmured as he slipped his arms around my waist, eyes sparkling as he pulled me closer, lifting my chin towards his with the softest touch of his fingertips.   
  
"Two people... two hearts... one soul..." he whispered and then his lips found mine in the darkness, filled with the passion that only a human heart can hold. I found myself reaching up and running my hands through his hair as the kiss went on until nothing else in the universe existed.   
  
After an eternity, we parted for air, Erik leaning against the tree and I leaning against him as the intensity of the moment gradually faded and our heartbeats slowed to a more normal pace.   
  
Faintly I could still hear the chatter of the students back at the bonfire but felt no inclination to join them. A full moon, brilliantly white against the navy blue background of night sky, winked at us through the trees, the only witness to the brief joining of our souls. It was peaceful... and with the added comfort of Erik's warm arms wrapped around me, I didn't ever want to leave.   
  
He gently kissed the top of my head. "I wish this would never end," he murmured, echoing my thoughts.   
  
"And why should it?" I asked softly, tracing his visible jaw line absently with my fingertips.   
  
He sighed. "Those teachers will soon notice that we're gone. They might worry and come looking for us."   
  
"Oh, you think so?" I replied, a mischievous glint in my eyes as I stepped away from him. "They can't get us if they can't find us!" With that, I darted off deeper into the trees, hearing Erik's startled exclamation and then his footsteps following.   
  
I held my laughter in and ran a bit further, slowing down to slip behind a tree. I waited with a silly grin stretching my mouth but didn't hear anything until I became aware of labored breathing behind me that was not my own. Despite his slender frame, Erik was in top physical condition... I had never heard him breathe like that. I swallowed my fear and turned around, squinting in the darkness.   
  
"Who's there?" I asked or started to ask because on the first word a white hot flash of pain exploded on my left arm, I cried out and was immediately rewarded with a brutal blow to the side of my head that made me see stars. I staggered from the pain and fell to the ground, almost gagging as my attacker stuffed a cloth in my mouth that smelled faintly of Johnny Boy cologne. I tried to get back up but he pushed me down again, holding my arms to the ground as he straddled me. I panicked and struggled but to no avail, he struck me again on the head and against the cloth in my mouth, I started to whimper. Tears ran freely from my eyes as I waited for what was sure to come next. Perhaps mercifully, I blacked out a moment later, the ragged breath of my attacker still echoing in my ears as my last conscious thought rang out through my mind: A desperate plea to the only One who might be listening. _God please help me!_


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**  
_"We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another."_  
-Luciano de Crescenzo

  
I was in total darkness, so thick and oppressive that I almost felt as if I were swimming, but anytime I tried to move my body refused to cooperate and I felt immensely exhausted. Voices echoed back and forth in this darkness. Once I thought I heard Erik's and another time I heard Marisa's, and then I thought I was back in the musical because I heard Tom's voice too. The darkness seemed impenetrable but, once, I spotted a far away light in the inky blackness of my surroundings and I felt a strange peace come over me.   
  
It didn't last long.   
  


* * *

  
_"Dad? Are we almost there?" Glittering white snow blows at the car, leaving behind only a few snowflakes on the windows that soon melted into oblivion._ "No!" I shouted, no longer in the darkness anymore, my voice sounding strange and echo-like. Oddly enough, I wasn't in the car, I seemed to be floating above and away from it a bit. However, I knew what was coming next and did not want to witness it again. But the dream-memory went on...   
  
_"Just a minute, Angel..." Usually warm and resonant, Dad's voice was strained as he leaned forward, trying to see through the continually thickening snow.   
  
"But Dad…!" I whined and suddenly, there was a loud sound... a blaring horn... screeching tires... a scream, mine... broken glass and twisted metal... snowflakes falling, brilliantly white against the redness..._ My dream-self, (I can describe it in no other way), saw the twisted wreckage as it always was but now there was something different... a translucent figure was emerging from the car, going through the roof as if it were not there! Amazingly, I recognized the figure... Dad! My dream-self struggled to follow but, as always, I could not move. The figure flew straight up and was joined by a creature that glowed with a pure celestial light, so bright that even my dream-self had to squint. The creature appeared to converse seriously with my father who looked down sadly at the car where an ambulance was extracting my semi-unconscious form but then he turned towards the creature with a nod.   
  
The dream faded and suddenly, I was in a different place... I couldn't really see in the physical sense but I somehow felt as if I was in a room of sorts. I was waiting... for what I didn't know... until out of the corner of my eye I spied a door opening to reveal a the light in the darkness. This time it was closer and brighter than before. I lifted my face and my arms towards the overwhelming sense of peace that the light brought. I wanted nothing more than to surrender to it... there was something familiar and comforting about it... I walked forward as the light grew brighter and vaguely I saw three shapes silhouetted against the source of the light that with each step closer I felt such incredible peace and happiness that I wept for pure joy.   
  
"Christine..." one of the figures spoke. It was my father. I struggled to run to him but some invisible force held me back. I felt his smile though, and I knew that he still loved me.   
  
"It is not yet time," one of the other figures said, in a voice that felt like the wind brushing against my cheek.   
  
"But I want to go with you!" I cried, reaching out towards my father and the light that shone all around him and his companions.   
  
"It is not yet time..." the figure repeated and suddenly, they began to fade, I desperately reached out once again but they were gone.   
  
"I'm all alone... again!" I whimpered and just as I thought I might collapse in grief, the peace came back and soothed my turbulent emotions, washing over my soul like cleansing water.   
  
"You will _never_ be alone..." The light pulsed faintly in the dark with the words even though they were not spoken audibly. I felt them in my heart and with the peace came a silent yet unmistakable pull... I nodded my assent and soon I felt like I was floating again...   
  


* * *

  
When my eyes opened, I found myself in a hospital bed, in a dimly lit room. A machine beside me beeped steadily and, as groggy as I felt, I remembered everything. Sensations came back slowly and I became aware of two things: The first being my arm, which throbbed faintly under the bandages, and the next the feeling of a thin, gentle hand under my own.   
  
I twitched my fingers experimentally, and finding that they didn't object to being put into action, gripped the hand. "Erik?" I asked, my whispered voice croaking. I licked my dry lips; it didn't help much.   
  
"Christine!" Erik's head sprang up from where it had been resting against his arm. I looked at the visible side of his face in alarm. He looked like he hadn't slept for days and his voice was more worn and haggard sounding then I had ever heard. I frowned at him, lifting my hand to brush away scraggly strands of his hair out of his face.   
  
"Are you okay?" I asked but he shushed me and pressed a button out of my line of sight. A nurse appeared soon after, brightened when she saw me awake and shooed Erik away from the bedside so she might see my monitors better. After that she asked me a few questions on how I felt, marked something down on her chart and then hurried away before I could ask the question that was the foremost in my mind.   
  
Erik's eyes never left my face and as soon as the nurse was done, he all but leapt back to my side, grasping my hand in his. The nurse returned with a glass of water, which I drank rather greedily. I stopped her before she left and bit my lip, feeling butterflies in my stomach. Absently, I heard the heart monitor beside me beep a little faster.   
  
"Am I..." I licked my lips again and gripped Erik's hand harder. "Am I pregnant?" There, I'd said it. Erik's hand jerked as the question escaped my lips. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**  
_"…A lovely apparition...  
And yet a spirit still and bright,  
With something of an angel light."_  
-William Wordsworth, English poet

  
The nurse smiled kindly, appearing not to be surprised at my words. "No, you're not."   
  
Relief flooded into me but disappeared as another notion appeared to me. "Are there... Do I have... any STD's?" Erik's hand jerked again but I kept my gaze on the nurse. I had to know.   
  
The nurse looked at me a moment and I held my breath. "No," she answered, "Perhaps you don't remember, Christine, but you were not raped." I closed my eyes, wilting against the stiff hospital pillow with relief. "This extremely brave young man here stopped your attacker, as I understand," the nurse continued with a twinkle in her eye. I turned my gaze to Erik, a touch of color creeping into his pale cheek as the nurse continued. "He's quite a keeper; I'd hang onto him if I were you." I glanced sharply at the nurse but her face was perfectly serious. She winked once and left.   
  
Once we were alone, I again reached up to touch his cheek, and his resolve to be stoic melted. He sighed and pressed my hand to his lips; his kiss no more than a feather-light brush against my palm. "Erik?" His mismatched eyes rose to meet mine. "How long has it been? What happened?"   
  
He kissed my palm again, and grasped it in his own as if to give me his strength. "You were attacked two nights ago... That night, I started after you but went a slightly different way so I could sneak up behind you." He paused to consider his next words. "I can hardly explain what happened next... You'll probably think I'm crazy but I swear that this is what I saw. I was going, like I said, to sneak up behind you when I saw this blazing light just to my right." His eyes looked faraway for a moment. "I saw a woman standing there... she was very beautiful and had a serene look on her face that I'll never forget. She told me not to be afraid but that I must hurry." Erik's gaze focused on me again, his eyes darkening as he recalled his memory. "She disappeared and I ran to where she was standing... just behind the tree I saw," a muscle in his jaw twitched. "That _animal_... and you... Luckily for him, my shouts brought the teachers and... well… here we are."   
  
My hand trembled in his. "Who... who was it?" I whispered, my throat feeling dry again.   
  
Erik looked down, shame creeping into his eyes. "I'll never forgive myself for not seeing it right away..." he said softly. "It was Tom Glover."   
  
Shocked beyond belief, I stared at him as memories of the decidedly intimate scenes I had had to act out with Tom in _West Side Story_ flashed through my mind. I swallowed against the bile rising in my throat, gripping Erik's hand which was reassuringly not a dream but real... and infinitely precious to me. "Do... do you know why?"   
  
Erik shook his head slowly. "Not really. It's too soon to know for sure but I heard some people say that he has a history of broken relationships and he comes from a bad home. There was also talk that he was obsessed with Charlotte; but, you know how she is, she wouldn't give him the time of day. If this is true, then… perhaps he saw you as a threat to what he wanted. Maybe he thought that by getting rid of you, her rival, Charlotte would be happy and would reciprocate his feelings."   
  
I stared at him, horrified. "But that's… that's crazy!"   
  
He was silent a moment. "I know," he replied quietly.   
  
I closed my eyes, feeling tears slip out from underneath my closed eyelids. I was so tired suddenly, thoughts whirling around in my head until one thought emerged above them all. Erik caressed my hand, saying nothing, but his presence was comforting and aided by an odd mixture of fear, courage, and whatever pain medication I was on, I looked at Erik, holding onto his hand like an anchor.   
  
"Erik."   
  
He looked up expectantly.   
  
"Erik, I don't know what's going to happen in the future. I know that there's a very good chance that one of us will make it to Julliard while one of us won't. I know that should we both make it, we're going to be very hard pressed to pay the tuition on our own." My lips started to tremble but I pushed myself forward. "I also know that the rest of the school year is still coming and anything may happen between now and the time we apply. But I want you to know that…" I inhaled a shuddery breath and closed my eyes. "I love you… so much… and I don't ever want to be apart from you." I was weeping openly now and couldn't see Erik's reaction. His hand had fallen still upon mine and for a moment I worried that I had said too much too fast. Erik had known so little of what I had just expressed, perhaps it was more than he could handle.   
  
When my eyes finally cleared enough, I saw what had been keeping him from responding verbally. Tears coursed down his face and he had been obliged to take off his mask in order to wipe them away. Finally he brought my hand to his lips and kissed it, leaving wet marks where his tears had dripped down over his lips.   
  
"Christine… I…" he started awkwardly.   
  
"It's okay," I said leaning back into my pillow, exhaustion catching up with me. "You don't have to say anything now… except," I heard my words go desperate. "Except, will you promise not to leave me?"   
  
He hesitated for a moment. "Christine, I can't promise anything… except that my feelings… for you… will never change… that I vow."   
  
I smiled sleepily at him, feeling my eyelids droop involuntarily. "That's good enough for me."   
  


* * *

  
A few days later, I brought out my dad's violin case to the living room where Erik waited and set it in front of him on a low table.   
  
He looked at me, eyebrow raised questioningly.   
  
"Go ahead," I replied encouragingly. "Open it."   
  
Erik sat down gingerly on the plastic covered couches from the 70's and gently lifted the lid after flipping the latches. My father's violin lay in its blue velvet lining, shining softly in the light that filtered through the curtains behind the couch.   
  
Erik touched the honey colored wood reverently, his fingers twitching as if he ached to let the violin sing.   
  
"It's yours," I said, sitting down beside him.   
  
Erik looked sharply up at me, his fingers abruptly ceasing their tender caress of the instrument. "What?"   
  
"It's yours," I repeated, "I'm giving it to you."   
  
"Christine! I… I can't possibly accept it. I--I have no way of paying you for it…"   
  
"It's a gift, Erik. I want you to have it," I replied gently, "I have no use for it but you will need it. Or did I hear you wrong when you mentioned off-hand that you'd like to double-major in voice and violin performance?"   
  
He winced and looked away from me for a moment back to the violin. "But this was truly your father's. Photos are nothing… His violin was a part of him… It is your best link to the past."   
  
I looked down for a moment and then reached over to cover his hand with mine. "I know that Dad wouldn't have disapproved, Erik. I remember once when I was ten, we went to a museum on a school field trip and he was a chaperone. We walked past an exhibit of old instruments and he remarked to me that it was so sad to see perfectly good instruments go to waste. Violins were made for music; to not use one for its intended purpose is almost insulting to music lovers, and even to the instrument itself." I fell quiet a moment, letting him digest my words. "I've dwelt long enough on the past, Erik. I need to do this so I can move on with my life."   
  
Erik looked up at last and searched my eyes for a long moment. Finally he nodded. "Okay. I'll take it." He took my hand and together we sat, silently gazing at the treasured instrument that had been my father's livelihood. It had tortured me with memories that I wished to relive so badly that I nearly forgot to live in the present. I still missed my father but now, with the help of love from good friends and… I stole a glance at Erik's calm face… _other_ people, I knew that my grief would fade in time. No more looking with longing eyes to the past, now I would look forward to the future, whatever it held. 


End file.
